


Let Your Feet Run Wild

by Tasyfa



Series: Spinning Circle of Flames [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Gay Character, Guerin is a little shit, Light BDSM, M/M, do not copy to other sites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-03-05 14:52:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18830905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasyfa/pseuds/Tasyfa
Summary: The continued adventures of the musician and the engineer: Michael's learned something new about himself and he'd like to know more.





	1. Surfacing

**Author's Note:**

> Now a series, God help me...  
> ~Tas
> 
> P. S. Ended up with a 'verse construction meta post, so I'll link it here for anyone curious:   
> https://tasyfa.tumblr.com/post/185235212449/this-is-a-bit-of-an-unusual-post-in-that-people
> 
> You can hit me up with questions here or on Tumblr if you want. It's all good.

* * * * *

Michael groaned at the sound of knocking. He didn't care what time it was, it was too fucking early.

The clock said 09:30. Between that and the knocking being on his actual front door, not the street level, Michael knew exactly who it was. 

"I'm gonna kill her," he muttered under his breath as he stood and stretched, looking at the bed's other occupant. 

Not much was visible beyond spiky dark hair, and he detected no movement. Good. At least one of them could sleep in. 

Michael padded out into the great room and checked through the door viewer. Yep. He sighed and unlocked the door, leaving the chain on as he stuck just his face out. "What do you want, Iz? It's my day with no classes." 

She pushed against the door, frowning when it wouldn't open further. "Let me in, Michael. I brought you a cappuccino and your favourite raspberry croissants." 

"And the other coffee?" He could see two cups in the paper tray. 

Isobel looked past him. "Maria said you had your eye on someone and I thought you might have company so I brought extra. I mean, I know you'll still drink it, if you are alone." 

He fucking knew it. "Did you have this chat before or after you fucked her into oblivion after arguing with the florist? Like, seriously, you have a sex life of your own. Just because y'all feel it necessary to share details about yours doesn't entitle you to details about mine." 

"Michael," she started in a placating tone. 

"No, Iz. Boundaries, remember? I'm not having this conversation with you again."

"Fine." She was huffy but Michael didn't care. 

"Thank you for the treats. If you leave them on the top stair, I'll retrieve them after you go get ready for the first Bridezilla of the day," he kept his tone pleasant and smiled at her. 

"Okay, okay, I'm going. I'll call you later." 

"Text me instead. I'll be in the lab later." 

She waved at him over her head while descending the stairs to show she heard him. Michael waited for the street door to slam shut before he disengaged the chain, grabbed the coffee tray and bag of pastries, and leaned back against the front door with a sigh once he'd locked back up. 

In time to see Alex emerge from the bedroom, his expression conveying that he'd heard every word and was finding it hilarious. 

"Coffee?" Michael offered brightly. "She's even got cream and sugar packets." 

"So that was Isobel, huh?" he wandered closer and took the tray from Michael, working both cups free and passing him the one labelled as a cappuccino. "I drink mine black. I don't think I've ever had a raspberry croissant, though." 

"You're missing out." Michael watched him tilt his head back to drink, elongating the line of his throat, Adam's Apple bobbing as he swallowed, and there was a curl of desire in his belly. 

Alex caught him looking. "And what are you thinking?" 

"Same thing as when I fell asleep last night. You're fucking beautiful." Michael saw no reason not to tell him, and he was rewarded with a hint of colour appearing in Alex's face. 

"Well, thank you. You're not so bad yourself," he returned the compliment with a smile. 

"Table?" He was putting the pastry bag down even as he asked, sinking into a chair. 

"Evidently you don't mind bare ass on the chair pads," Alex grinned, sitting beside him. 

"Nah. Pads are washable, tomorrow is laundry day, and I'm pretty sure the wood has coped with worse things than a little leftover sweat and jizz." Michael tore the bag open and passed Alex a croissant. 

"Thanks," he managed around a laugh. "I guess you are that blunt 24/7."

"Part of my charm," Michael agreed. "Possibly all of it, sometimes." 

"It's refreshing. I got used to brutal honesty in the military. I could do with fewer layers of meaning to everything that's said in the music industry." He popped a piece of the pastry in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "That is really nice." 

"Right? The bakery's up the street by Kensington Market."

"Cool, I'll have to look out for it. I usually end up down at St. Lawrence Market." 

"That's good too, but Kensington is right there, so." Michael drank some of his cappuccino, debating whether he should ask about what happened last night. Alex didn't seem to mind his foot-in-mouth affliction so he might as well. "You were going to tell me about the underwater feeling and why it drowned my vocabulary." 

"I was. Am," he corrected. He gave Michael a speculative look. "What do you know about BDSM?" 

"What, like, whips and chains and stuff? Not a great deal," Michael admitted. "I'm not into pain. Or PVC, for that matter." He had some vague mental images of heavily made-up women with stern expressions and shiny catsuits. 

"That's the SM part, sadomasochism, which is what usually gets popularised in the media. I'm not really into it, either." It sounded like something Alex had had to say a lot before. 

"What's BD, then?" 

"Bondage and discipline." 

"Sounds like more pain," Michael frowned. 

"Well, the discipline half can be, but it doesn't have to be. It can be about other things, like mind games, or the lighter end of impact play, like spanking by hand. And bondage is everything from wrists tied together to full-on body wrappings." 

"So, that's what you're into?" Michael couldn't connect that with last night, either. 

"I like some aspects, sure, but my kink is the DS bit in the middle there. Domination/submission. It's about control, really." 

"Hardworking acronym." 

Alex chuckled, "Yeah." His gaze was steady on Michael. "Commonly abbreviated to D/s, capital D forward slash small s. There are people who get hung up on the capital letters thing but I'm not particularly formal." 

Michael nodded, but he was only sort of following because it seemed so abstract. "D/s, okay. I have to admit, I'm still not seeing myself anywhere here." 

"Because I'm just giving you the headlines, so you have the words to talk about this." Michael nodded and Alex continued, "I'm a dominant, dom for short. I like men who do what I tell them to, when I tell them to do it. Who maybe give me some attitude about it but still obey." 

"You were pleased when I told you to fuck off," Michael remembered; it was the one thing which hadn't made sense to him. 

"I was. Because what else did you do?" That look was back and it wasn't like Michael could hide it was turning him on, not while he was sat there naked. 

"Exactly what you said to?" 

"Yeah," Alex confirmed softly. "I was _asking_ last night, but if we'd agreed on boundaries for a scene ahead of time, they would have been orders, and I would have expected you to follow them, instead of hoping you'd want to." 

"Oh," Michael said faintly. Should the idea of Alex ordering him around really be that hot? Was it weird to want it? 

"What are you thinking?" Shit, was Michael being that obvious? 

"Um, that I should probably examine my relationship history with a fresh perspective?" 

Alex's smile was wry. "It could be illuminating. What else?" 

"I think I need to learn more. Because, yeah, I'm attracted to people who boss me around, but that hasn't always gone so well in the past." He'd had to learn how to say no. He could, now, but it wasn't always so easy and it had gotten Michael into trouble at times. 

"Flip side's no easier. Different skill set and desires, but same need for trust and respecting boundaries." Alex finished his coffee and set the cup to the side, patting the table in front of him. "Come over here, c'mon." 

Michael went, letting Alex help him hop up to sit on the table. He smiled as Alex bracketed Michael's knees with his arms, his hands on the outside of Michael's thighs and Michael's feet dead centre of Alex's thighs. 

"So if you're a dominant, then I'm what, a submissive?" 

"Well, you certainly have submissive tendencies, at least from where I'm sitting. Whether or not you choose to call yourself a sub is exactly that, your choice." 

"A sub," Michael tried out the word. "I feel like I should have special sauce."

"I think you're naturally saucy," Alex grinned. Michael shrugged; not much he could say to that, so Alex continued, "If I said you were good for me last night, how does it make you feel?" 

"Good for you?" he asked doubtfully.

"Yeah. What does that make you think?" 

"Alex, I don't think eating ass is the same as eating your vegetables. It's not like it's a category on the Canada Food Guide." 

Halfway through his comment, Alex lost it, laughing so hard he had tears dripping off his chin. "Jesus Christ, Michael, the shit that comes out of your mouth!" 

"It's a gift," Michael told him, in as prim a tone as any he'd heard from Isobel. 

"It sure is," Alex agreed when he'd caught his breath. "So not what I meant, though." 

"Which was?" He liked the way Alex looked right now, rose-tinted with laughter, dark eyes sparkling. 

"Just, if we'd been scening - on purpose - and you'd been as well-behaved as you were, then it would have been for me, like, on my behalf, as the person in charge." He hesitated, then added, "I probably would have said as much when I was fucking you." 

"Mm. I liked whatever it was you did say. Don't recall what, I was pretty out of it by then, but I know it felt good." 

"Yeah, the out of it, that's headspace or subspace. It's a thing that happens to subs when they achieve a certain mental state, usually by way of some kind of intense experience, often sexual. Or via pain." 

"Oh, so that's why all the hitting, so people can get into subspace." It was beginning to make sense finally. 

"It's an easy access point for lots of subs." 

"But you do it - induce it, I guess? - by being an Olympic level tease." 

Alex laughed. "I tend to prefer getting my lover strung out on pleasure, yes." 

"And the staying to be responsible?" 

"If I take someone apart, with their permission, then I've committed to taking care of them until they're put back together." He sounded more serious and Michael nodded. 

"Sisters out the wazoo means I'm well versed in obtaining consent." 

"I guess you would be, yeah," Alex smiled. 

"Yep." Michael felt like he'd gotten his head round the bare bones basics, at least as they applied to him personally. As for learning more.... He gave Alex a wide, bright smile. "Sooooo, do you give hands on lessons?" 

"I'm no teacher," Alex shook his head, but he returned the smile and that kept Michael's stomach from dropping out of his body at the stupidity of his question. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to ---"

"Relax, Michael," Alex interrupted, rubbing his palms over Michael's knees, reminding him they were both nude. "I, uh, I wanted to ask you out, actually. On a date. Tomorrow night, if you're available? Or Friday?" 

He was clearly nervous, not broadcasting confidence the way he had been up til now, and the combined package wasn't one Michael could resist. He leaned forward and covered Alex's hands with his own. 

"I'd like that. I'd like it a lot. Tomorrow evening is good, so long as it's a bit later. Say, nine o'clock?" 

"Sounds good, yeah. Any dietary restrictions, allergies?" 

"Not a one." Michael smiled at Alex, noticing yet again how pretty his eyes were. "But, um, on that topic, what are you doing now?" 

The slow smile spreading across Alex's face had all the sass and hunger from before, and Michael welcomed the rush of heat between them. He let his feet dangle free as Alex stood up, moving in close. 

"I was thinking I'd do you, if you'll let me." 

 

 

[end chapter one]


	2. Raspberry Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Position check: Michael is sitting on the kitchen table. Alex is standing between his knees. Everybody's naked. 
> 
> Go. *g*  
> ~Tas

* * * * *

"Here?" Michael asked, eyebrows raised.

"Well, you did say the wood could cope with some mess, right?" He couldn't miss Alex's words, breathed against his ear. "And the height is good, don't you think?" 

Michael squeaked as he suddenly slid forward all of two inches, Alex's hands tugging on Michael's hips. He inhaled sharply at the feel of Alex prodding against him, both of them rapidly hardening. "Yeah, great height. Who knew?" 

A low laugh was the only answer, and Michael tipped his head back to offer Alex his throat for the kisses he was starting to press into Michael's skin. 

He felt teeth close gently over the exposed skin and responded with an equally gentle moan that grew louder as Alex licked up to his mouth and kissed him. Michael kissed back enthusiastically, looping his arms around Alex's shoulders. 

"I'm going to have to leave you for a minute," Alex murmured against his lips and Michael made a displeased sound. Alex chuckled, "Surely a man with an engineering degree understands the importance of lubricating moving parts." 

Michael sighed dramatically, "When you put it that way...."

"Uh-huh." Another kiss and Alex stepped back, moving a chair underneath each of Michael's feet. "Sit tight." 

He was striding towards the bedroom before Michael could make a crass joke about something being tight. Setting his feet on the chair pads, he noted how far apart that put his knees. Somehow that didn't surprise him: easy access and nowhere to hide. Two things he'd already learned Alex liked. 

And then Alex re-entered the room, condom on and slick hand stroking himself ready, and Michael forgot to breathe. Holy shit, that was an unforgettable visual. 

"What?" Alex asked, tilting his head with a quizzical smile as he stopped, centred in between Michael's spread thighs. 

"Um, there's just something, inevitable feeling about this. Like it's going to happen no matter what, you know?" 

He saw Alex's brows draw together. "Unless you say no. You know that, right? Everything stops if you want it to." 

"Yeah, no, yeah I know that," Michael nodded emphatically. "I don't wanna say no. I know that, and you know that, so if we put it to the side because we're totally fine consent wise, then we're left with me feeling like you're going to take what you want and I don't get a say. And that," he wet his lips, "that is really fucking hot." 

"Oh, I see," the smile gracing Alex's mouth ought to be illegal. "I agree. It is really fucking hot." Michael groaned as slippery fingers pressed inside him with no warning, and Alex added, "You're really fucking hot." 

"I don't need ---" he was cut off by a searing kiss, Alex pushing his tongue into his mouth in an echo of what his fingers were doing and Michael quit trying to talk. 

A few minutes later, Alex let him up for air and said, "You didn't need prep, no, but I had a hand covered in lube already. Shame to waste it, especially when you make the most delightful noises." 

Michael managed a breathless laugh. "If you say so." 

Alex gave him a wicked grin and wiped his hand on a napkin plucked from the paper coffee tray. That felt deliberate, in the same way as Michael had tried to describe earlier, and it made his stomach flutter and his cock twitch. 

Then Alex was kissing him again, palms splayed across his back, and Michael realised he was slowly being reclined. The hands withdrew when Michael's back settled flat on the table and he opened his eyes to see Alex straighten up, looking down at him with heat and want and will shining in his gaze. 

Michael said nothing when Alex laid his hands against Michael's inner thighs, caught fast by that dark gaze. He arched, whining softly, when Alex pushed inside his body by a scant inch, craving more. 

He got more, in achingly slow degrees that had Michael sweating and swearing, all under Alex's intent regard, until finally Alex bottomed out. 

And held still, damn him, with a hint of a smile curving that beautiful mouth. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Michael groaned, watching that hint blossom into a full-blown grin. "Never mind, I know the answer already." 

"You do," Alex agreed, and it wasn't fair, how tranquil he sounded. "What do you want, Michael?" 

"I want you to fuck me," in a tone which suggested Alex should know that. 

"Uh-huh, and what else?" Unruffled, damn him. 

"A kiss," Michael admitted, though he didn't expect to get one. Doing both in this position was impossible. But now Alex had finished teasing him with such slow penetration, he seemed kind of far away. Michael frowned a little. "Maybe kiss over fuck? Sounds weird, I know, but ---"

"It's not weird. Not at all," Alex disputed, and held out a hand. "Here, sit up." 

Michael did, surprised by the relief sweeping through him as he pressed his chest against Alex's. He eagerly accepted the slow, deep kiss, finding comfort in the closeness he hadn't been aware of needing.

Alex spoke several minutes later, "I am going to fuck you. And I'm going to keep my hands right here," he squeezed Michael's hips, "because otherwise, you're going to slide backwards and one or both of us is going to end up bruising our balls on the table, and I'm really, really not into CBT." 

"Cognitive behavioural therapy?" Michael queried, confused. 

"Cock and ball torture," Alex corrected with a smirk, and Michael's eyes widened. 

"Yeah, let's not go there, please. You hold onto me as hard as you need to, to avoid that." Therapy he could have coped with. The other three words did not belong together in Michael's opinion. 

"Deal," Alex chuckled, and kissed him again. 

It seemed like forever before Alex moved, an eternity with Michael feeling filled but frictionless, anticipation become impatience become need, a whimpered, "Please," inspiring a solid, rough rhythm that had Michael choking out moans into Alex's mouth.

"Can I...?" he asked at length, tension building fast now. 

"You can jerk off, yes. Come when you want. Just be aware," Alex nipped at his bottom lip, "I'm going to fuck you until I'm done. No matter where you are." 

"Okay," Michael didn't think he should sound happy with the answer but there it was, clear in his voice. 

His choices were to come first and deal with being fucked through the oversensitive phase after orgasm, or to wait for Alex and then finish himself off empty. 

Diabolical. 

Michael began to stroke his cock, leaving his other hand pressed against the dip in the small of Alex's back, feeling Alex work while his own hips were held still. He let himself sink into the sensations coursing through his body, revelling in the increasingly ragged kisses they continued to trade. 

Without making a conscious choice, Michael hit the point of no return and spilled over his hand, hearing Alex echo his groan. He kept going as long as he could before his fingers stopped in a light hold, cock too sensitive for any more, but receptive still to Alex's thrusts, intense and almost but not quite too much. 

The sound alerted Michael first, a hitched breath and a long, low moan gifted him before Alex shuddered in release. 

He stood there panting, eyes closed, and Michael pressed a kiss to his cheek, watching his mouth curve. Alex leaned in, resting his forehead against Michael's as he caught his breath. 

"You need an evil laugh track," Michael opined, laughing with Alex. 

"Maybe I'll record one. How's it going? You good?" 

"I am fantastic. And in dire need of a shower now," Michael grinned. 

"Mm, yeah, that was good and dirty," Alex returned the smile. 

"You're welcome to go first, if you want. I have grab bars installed. Occupational awareness, I guess; I've made a number of friends with some kind of mobility problems so I wanted a friendly apartment. Or as friendly as possible given it's upstairs. Someday I'll talk Izzy into an elevator," he shrugged. 

"I noticed those last night, yeah. I think you're the first person I've met who isn't medical or military who knows a lot about it," Alex smiled, his expression soft. He fitted his palm to Michael's jaw, thumb gently moving over his cheek. "I appreciate the offer but if I put those jeans on while I'm even slightly damp, I don't think they'll come back off." 

Michael chuckled, "Yeah, fair enough." He remained sitting on the table as Alex went to get cleaned up, waiting for his body to finish regaining equilibrium before doing anything like trusting his legs to hold him up. 

When Alex returned, fully dressed, he laughed. "Need help getting down?" 

"Nah, I'm good." 

"Good." He leaned close enough to press a quick kiss to Michael's lips. "I apologise but I need to get going. It's later than I thought." 

"That's what you get for trying to drive me insane," Michael told him loftily. 

"No one to blame but myself, eh? I can live with that," Alex grinned. "I'll text you about tomorrow night." 

"Sounds good." He smiled and watched as Alex shrugged into that gorgeous leather jacket and strapped on the guitar bag. 

Michael still hadn't moved when Alex paused at the door and gave him a thorough once-over and a slow grin. "You should go see your sister before you disappear into your lab, if she's worrying. You _look_ like you had a good time." 

"I'm not alone in that," Michael mirrored his grin, adding a wink for good measure. 

"No, you're not," he acknowledged, smile intact, and left the apartment. 

When the sound of footsteps on stairs died away, Michael laid back on the table and laughed. 

This time yesterday, he'd been up to his eyeballs in students and hadn't even been planning to go out. 

Today, he was sore in all the best ways, and he had a date planned with the most gorgeous man he'd seen in a long time. 

So, shower first, disinfect the kitchen, and by that time, Michael's brain should be capable of research mode.

* * * * *

"Hey, Christi. Is she with a client?"

Isobel's assistant glanced back at her name, then faced him with a smile. "Hi, Michael, haven't seen you in a while! How've you been?" 

"Good, thanks. Does Isobel have a few minutes available?" 

"Yeah, she's in the office. We've only got one more appointment today and that's not for another half hour." 

"Great," he smiled his thanks and strode past Christi towards the back, rapping twice on the door to Isobel's office before pushing it open. "Iz, you got a minute?" 

Isobel spun her chair around and pinned him with one arched eyebrow. "Didn't expect to see you today." 

He shrugged. "I just wanted to clear the air about this morning." 

Her face softened. "There's no need, Michael. I was out of line and you let me know it. I'm sorry." 

"Thanks." Michael ran a hand over his hair, despite knowing it would do nothing to tame the curls. Force of habit around Isobel. He saw her head tilt and her eyes narrow. "What?" 

Rising from her chair, Isobel came over to him and pressed her thumb against the tendon above his collarbone. Michael winced and jerked away. "Ow! What the hell, Isobel?" 

She smirked. "Do up your buttons if you don't want the shirt collar to move around and show off that lovely hickey." 

Michael scowled at her but he did fasten one more button, counting it as a victory when she sighed and rolled her eyes. "I'm only going to the lab. Nobody there cares." 

"I don't suppose they would, no. Are you going to tell me anything about your company?" 

"Why are you so interested? I mean, you're always nosy but you don't usually try to grill me about my dates while they're still in the building. Not since high school, anyway." He perched on the low filing cabinet as Isobel reprised her seat. 

"It was just something Maria said. She'd met him earlier, thought he was cute and seemed like a decent guy. Then when you showed up, she said your face when you saw him reminded her of the way I looked at her the first time she modelled lingerie for me." 

"Oh." He couldn't say much to that, really. "I probably did, to be fair. I think he's beautiful. And those jeans hid nothing." 

"A good pair of jeans on a beautiful person definitely has the power to short-circuit the brain," Isobel declared. 

"Truer words were never spoken." 

Her smile was affectionate. "You like him, don't you? Are you going to see him again?" 

"Tomorrow night, yeah. Dinner? I think? We left it vague, he'll text me." 

There was a knock, and this time the person waited for Isobel to call, "Come in." 

Christi poked her head around. "Ms. Parker is a bit early."

"Okay. Get her a sparkling water and sit her on the grey sofa with the cake photo book. I'll be there in a minute." 

"Will do." She disappeared, the door closing softly, and Isobel sighed. 

"Duty calls. You're coming to the house for Sunday dinner, right?" 

"Always, Izzy. You know that." Michael hugged her. "I'll see you then." 

The overcast sky threatened rain but it was still dry when Michael stepped outside and began to walk up to the university. 

 

 

[end chapter two]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr if you'd like; same username. My ask box is open! 
> 
> And yes, same Tasyfa as in the OG Roswell fandom once upon a time.  
> ~Tas


	3. Casual (Ish)

* * * * *

Michael dug his phone out of his pocket as it chimed, reading the text as he waited in line in the café.

_Still on for tonight? I made reservations for 9:30. Just a streetcar ride from your place._

Michael smiled; so it was dinner out. He was good with that. 

_All systems go on this end. Dress code?_

_Greater than sweat pants, less than shirt + tie._

Michael laughed and typed back. 

_...Did you just give me fashion instructions in a math format?_

_I've worked with engineers. Math is good language._

He could hear the sarcasm and shook his head, grinning. 

_Fair enough. I'll see you at mine at nine._

_See you then._

Michael looked up as he reached the head of the line, pocketing the phone again after paying for his order. 

Tea, coffee, and a box of Timbits in hand, he scurried back to the lab with enough fuel to get himself and his research assistant through the afternoon.

* * * * *

When his door buzzer went off, Michael pressed the intercom to say he'd be right down, and slipped into his brown leather jacket, checking he had phone, wallet, keys before clattering down the stairs.

He loved this jacket for its incredible softness, the way it smelled, the multitude of pockets, and the fact it had been a Christmas gift from his sister. 

According to Isobel, he was supposed to love it because it coordinated with his favourite boots, complemented his hair, and made his eyes look like warm caramel. Michael had yet to figure out why melty looking eyeballs would be a desirable thing. However, he could agree the cinnamon colour suited him and, way more importantly to Michael, he felt good wearing it. 

It was sort of his toned down cowboy aesthetic, in contrast to Alex's grown up punk aesthetic. Which was still in full force, Michael was happy to see as he exited the building, and he grinned at Alex. "Hi." 

"Hi yourself," Alex smiled, his gaze flicking approvingly over Michael. "Shall we?" They headed for the closest eastbound streetcar stop. 

"Do you have a TTC pass? I have tokens, if not," Alex offered as they waited. 

"I do have a pass, thanks. Student discount," he waggled his eyebrows. 

"I miss those. And the Armed Forces ones. I suppose my next discount will be when I'm a senior," Alex chuckled. 

"You got a ways to go yet, dude." 

They laughed and boarded the streetcar when it pulled up, Michael following Alex to the seats at the back. Late evening on a Thursday, after the initial dinner rush and before the nightlife fully kicked in, it was maybe a quarter full, and they had the last few rows all to themselves. 

"So, are you going to tell me where we're getting off?" 

Michael startled at the hand on his thigh, turning his head to watch Alex raise one eyebrow and say, "Didn't realise you were so eager." 

"I meant alight, as in get off the streetcar, and you know that," Michael clarified with a shaky laugh. 

"Is this okay?" Alex asked, squeezing his thigh. 

"Yeah," Michael couldn't look away, captured by warm, dark eyes. 

He inhaled sharply as Alex slid his palm farther over, fingers pressed to the crease where inner thigh met groin. 

"How about now?" 

"No farther," Michael whispered, surprised when Alex smiled. 

"Boundaries. Good," he sounded pleased. "How do you feel about kissing?" 

"What, here?" At the nod, Michael shrugged, "I don't have a problem with public, although I'm not a fan of things getting hot and heavy, more because it feels intrusive towards other people than because it directly bothers me, if that makes sense?" 

"It does," Alex smiled. "A kiss is fine, making out is not, hm?"

Michael simply nodded in agreement. He anticipated Alex's next move, leaning closer to offer his mouth. Warmth spread through him at how delighted Alex looked, and then he closed his eyes as their lips touched. 

It was soft, brief, a spark to be ignited later. 

A promise. 

His eyes opened as Alex drew back and moved his hand to the top of Michael's thigh, in a far less overtly sexual touch. A half smile quirked Michael's lips. "You look very pleased with yourself." 

"Mm, no," Alex disagreed, eyes forward now, his shoulder bumping Michael's. "I'm very pleased with _you_."

"Oh. Should I say thank you or you're welcome?" 

He laughed. "A thank you will do nicely." 

"Thank you, then," Michael spoke softly, covering Alex's hand with his own. He didn't get the chance to say anything else as the next stop was announced and Alex stood up. 

"This is us." 

Walking up Jarvis Street, Michael observed, "You seem to enjoy testing me, for lack of a better word. Like, pushing a little and seeing how I react." 

Alex uttered a low laugh that settled over Michael like a silk cloak. "There are few things I enjoy more, to be honest with you." 

"Yeah? Is that part of your kink?"

He grinned, "Hit Google, did you?" 

"A little bit," Michael admitted. "I don't want to dig too much, though. It's just a lot of words if I'm not actually doing anything - there's no context." 

"I didn't think reading would be your preferred way to learn stuff," Alex teased. 

"It really isn't."

Halting on the sidewalk, Alex moved around to face him. Michael stopped walking immediately and met his eyes, openly curious. 

"You probably could boil down my kinks into control and reaction. As in, my control, my partner's reaction. So you're right, I like to push a little, draw out a little more reaction if I can." His gaze was steady on Michael, echoing the smile on his lips. "It's fun, as long as it's done carefully, and as long as I know I can trust the other person to say no if he needs to."

"And you trust me to say no. Like earlier, when you were checking where the lines were for me so you could colour inside them." There was a note of certainty Michael hadn't expected in his own voice. He'd thought he was asking a question. 

"Yes." 

He also hadn't expected the simplicity or power of that one word answer. "Wow. Okay. Um, where are we actually going, anyway?" 

Alex chuckled, revolving to resume walking. He pointed to the large, ornate building coming up on their right as Michael fell into step beside him. "There. The Keg Mansion." 

"I've been to a Keg Steakhouse before but it was just a normal restaurant, not a big fancy house. Cool." 

"Glad you think so. I like this location because it's a bit different, like you said, but it's got the same menu and a similar feel to it, you know?" 

Michael hung back as Alex spoke to the hostess and she located his reservation, then followed them both up the stairs and to a relatively secluded table. Alex moved towards one side of the table so Michael took the chair opposite. 

"Your server tonight will be Terri, and someone will be by shortly to take your drink order." She smiled and left two menus on the table before departing. 

The restaurant was busy enough to have a background buzz of voices without being overly loud. It made where they were sat feel more private. 

"Do you like wine? Or would you rather stick with mixed drinks?" Alex asked. 

Michael pursed his lips. "I like red wine that has something like 'chewy' in the tasting notes, and super dry sparkling. Apparently I'm supposed to have had to develop a palate to like those, but I don't like anything at all sweet in wine, it turns out." He chuckled, "Isobel says I like wine that's so dry, it's dead." 

"Pretty sure there'll be a dry, chewy red available," Alex smiled, opening the wine menu. "And it'll go well with steak, which is definitely what I'm having. That's why I come here." 

"Red wine it is, then," Michael returned the smile. He started to read the food menu, leaving Alex to the drink ordering. By the sounds of it, he was more familiar with the options than Michael was. 

The next few minutes were occupied with discussing and ordering, deciding to share a Caesar salad as a starter because Alex said it was huge and they agreed they both needed to eat something garlicky if one of them were going to. 

Then it was just the two of them, wineglasses newly filled, and Michael lifted his, smiling as Alex clinked it. "To live music." 

The smile that earned him took Michael's breath away. "To live music." 

They each took a sip, and Michael's mouth took over. "How's the album coming along? Do you get the CDs pressed when you're happy with the songs? Or do you have to get it approved by someone before it can be released?" 

Alex took another sip, watching him with a little smirk, and Michael shrugged. If he hadn't sent Alex running after word vomiting everything but his damn name the other night, it wasn't going to scare him off now. 

He waited while Alex swallowed his mouthful and set down the glass, sitting on the urge to ask more questions before Alex had even had a chance to address the first ones. 

"I'm going to approach that in a more linear fashion. I do have a label, so yes, what I consider 'done' does have to go through someone else before it's properly finalised. Officially, anyway," the little smirk grew into a smile. "Unofficially, I'm not worried about there being any changes required, because Derek is co-producing, so by the time I'm happy with it, he will be, too. And we're nearly there. Next week should see it being pressed." 

"How long does the pressing take? I guess it depends on how many copies. Do you know that?" Michael winked, "And do I get one?" 

Alex raised his eyebrows, "Do you want one?" 

"Does a bear shit in the woods? Hell yes," grinning when Alex started laughing. 

"Christ on a bicycle, Michael. Never change." 

His grin softening into something almost bashful, Michael found himself dropping his gaze to focus on where Alex held the wineglass. When Alex prompted, "What?", he shrugged, feeling awkward. 

"I like it when you laugh. Especially when I've had something to do with it. It's just, not the most common reaction to my---my way of speaking."

"No, I don't expect it is. Many people can't deal with unvarnished truth; they need it sugar-coated to be palatable. I don't." His eyes were serious now, though a smile remained. 

Michael nodded, "Yeah, so you said. And that's cool, like, I'm not doubting you. But I'm more used to being told to shut up after a comment like that, instead of being... praised, I guess you'd call it." 

Alex tilted his head to one side, gaze locked on him, and raised his glass. Michael hastily followed suit. "To telling it like it is." 

"To telling it like it is," Michael echoed, his bright smile returning. 

The salad arrived, as big as predicted, and they both dug in, talking in between eating. 

"I did my undergrad at UNM. Uh, University of New Mexico. It's in Albuquerque, couple hours from home so I did move there. Dorm the first year, then sharing an apartment." 

"My family's all Armed Forces, other than my mom. She was a teacher. But my dad and brothers are Navy." Alex chuckled, "I think I was five or six when it became clear I would not be following in their footsteps. We discovered the hard way that I get violently seasick." 

"Oh, man, that sucks. No luxury cruises for you, I guess." 

"Definitely not. I feel so deprived," he deadpanned, and Michael laughed. 

"I bet. So did you just pick a different service to join?" he was curious, because that seemed to Michael like it could have been an out if Alex hadn't wanted a military career. 

"Mm, not exactly. I wanted to focus on music. But my mom really wanted me to go to university, and when I started looking into my options, Royal Military College seemed the logical choice. RMC works a little like the G.I. Bill in the States," he clarified, "you get your degree and in return, you pledge five plus years of service after graduation." 

Michael nodded, "I got a scholarship, thankfully, so I didn't need to consider other options." 

"Nice," Alex smiled approvingly. "I spent too much time on my guitar and my skateboard in high school to get the grades for a scholarship." 

"I was embarrassingly studious, believe it or not. So was Max," he grinned, remembering. "Isobel would want to go out somewhere and I'd be like, I just need to poke this thing and figure out how it works, and Max would be like, let me read in peace for fuck's sake. And then ten minutes later, we'd be in the car on the way to wherever, because Isobel said so." 

He could see Alex smirking and had to laugh. "Okay, yeah, before you ask, Max married a firecracker and she definitely wears the pants." 

"I said nothing," Alex protested, smirk intact. 

"Yeah, no, your face said it for you."

"Couldn't have. My face is innocent." 

Michael burst out laughing. "No. Hell no. Innocent is not a description I'd apply to any part of you, Alex." 

He heaved a sigh, eyes dancing with mischief. "I suppose not. I mean, think about some of the places my face has been recently." 

The casual reminder brought a flush to Michael's cheeks, spreading down his neck, across his collarbone. He shifted in the chair and rallied, "Thank you for illustrating my point with such aplomb." 

They were both snickering as Terri cleared the table, wisely refraining from asking them what was so funny. Instead, she smiled and said she'd be right back with their entrées. 

Michael took advantage of the pause to refill the wineglasses, thus emptying the bottle. 

"I'll ask her to bring another, shall I?" 

"Yeah, why not?" Michael smiled. "I like it." And they were having a good time, so lingering over a second bottle of wine wouldn't be at all difficult. 

All too easy, in fact, same as the conversation, which turned to their impressions of Toronto, what it was like to live here, favourite places to go for any and every thing. 

Until a few sips of wine was all that remained of the meal, and they were working on finishing that. 

"Dessert?" Alex enquired. 

"Oh, God, no thank you," he groaned. "I'm already thinking it might be a good idea to skip the streetcar and walk home." 

Alex chuckled, "We could do that. I can think of more interesting ways to work off the calories, though, if that's what you're worried about." 

"I think you could come up with, like, twenty billion interesting ways, probably in the next five minutes," Michael teased, his smile making it clear he considered it to be a positive. 

"Slight exaggeration, maybe," he shrugged, obviously amused. "No dessert. Fancy coffee?" 

Michael licked his lips. "I have coffee and booze at my place, if you really want one." 

His answer was a slow, dirty grin that got his heart rate up. No, there really wasn't anything innocent about Alex's face, not with that kind of smile on that wicked mouth. 

"Well, then. I'll ask for the bill." 

It didn't take long for Alex to square everything away with Terri, and then they were sliding arms into jackets and making their way downstairs. 

Just past the bottom of the staircase, they both stopped dead at a voice calling, "Alex Manes?!" 

Michael turned in time to see Alex light up with shock and delight as he saw the source of the call: a well-built, compact man with a shock of dark hair, cheekbones that rivalled Alex's, and a huge, incredulous grin. 

"Kyle?!" 

 

 

[end chapter three]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr if you'd like; same username. My ask box is open! 
> 
> And yes, same Tasyfa as in the OG Roswell fandom once upon a time.   
> ~Tas


	4. Authenticity

* * * * *

"What are you doing here?" Alex asked as Kyle approached, and Michael watched them hug. This guy was obviously someone Alex knew well.

"I could say the same. You not stationed out of CFB Petawawa anymore?" 

"Not stationed out of anywhere anymore. My enlistment period was up last year and I took the honourable discharge." 

Kyle's surprise showed all over his face. "Whoa, you actually left the RCAF? I figured you might end up retiring out." 

"I know you did," Alex smiled, but Michael heard a hint of something in his voice; sadness, maybe? "But I am out, and I'm making music now. Moved here a few months back." 

"Oh, shit, you live here too? I just started my residency. I lucked out: pediatric surgeon at Sick Kids. You know, the Hospital for Sick Children. It's amazing so far." 

"Congratulations. I remember you were hoping to get in there." 

"I was. I didn't expect to get it, but I'm thrilled I did. Of course, you might want to check back for the real reaction once the sleep deprivation kicks in," he laughed. He had a nice laugh, and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners suited him. It told Michael this was a man who laughed a lot. 

"Anyway, Manes, give me your phone. I'll text myself and then you'll have the number." 

Alex handed over his phone, and Michael had a weird sense of unsynchronised déjà vu as Kyle thumbed over the screen. He'd done exactly the same thing with Alex's phone, night before last. 

"Yours is going to be the more complicated schedule, Kyle, so let me know when you're available and we can get together, catch up on the last few years." 

Kyle nodded agreement, then gave Alex a mischievous smile. "So were you planning to introduce me to your friend?" 

A different variety of shock in Alex's expression now, and an apologetic wince as he pivoted and took Michael's hand, interlacing their fingers. "Fuck me gently, I am so sorry, Michael. Kyle and I knew each other in university and neither of us is from the area so this was a total fluke." 

"Yeah, I gathered that. No worries," he smiled. Michael wasn't sure whose benefit the handholding was for, but it felt good nonetheless. And seemed to have caught Kyle's interest, judging by the once-over he was now giving Michael. 

"Okay. Well, Michael, this is Dr. Kyle Valenti, pediatric surgery resident. Kyle, this is Michael Evans, PhD student at U of T." 

"Nice to meet you," Michael extended his free hand, receiving a firm handshake. 

"Same here, same here. I'm sure I'll see you around, too," his smile seemed sincere enough. "I gotta run, I'm meeting a buddy of mine, but it was great to see you, Alex, and to meet you, Michael. I'll text you later, Manes." 

Kyle disappeared into the restaurant, leaving Alex and Michael stood there holding hands. Michael half expected Alex to disengage immediately but he didn't. He simply tugged at Michael to indicate he should follow Alex outside, and Michael did. 

He made it through about a block and a half of silent walking before squeezing Alex's fingers and enquiring, "So was this for my benefit or Kyle's?" 

Alex sighed and looked at him with a rueful smile. "Good question. Both. Apology for you. For him, a hands off notification." He emitted a soft laugh. "And a little stability for me." 

Michael nodded, mentally adding that to what he'd observed in the restaurant. "How long were you together?" 

"Not as long as we've been friends since it ended. I had no idea he was in the city; we haven't talked really in the last two, three years." 

If Alex had left the Air Force last year, which would only have happened once he was fully rehabilitated and probably a while after that, even... "Not since before you lost your leg." 

"I told you math and engineers went well together. Yeah." He sighed again. "I had a hard time dealing with the injury at first, and the last thing I wanted was yet another doctor around. Kyle's a great guy, but he can't turn off the medical, you know?" 

"Yeah, I get that. You needed to do what was right for you," Michael said gently. "If it helps any, he seems totally fine about it. A doctor has got to know that sometimes, shit happens." 

"True," Alex conceded. "Does it bother you?" 

"That you're still friends with an ex-boyfriend? No," Michael was firm on that point. "I _was_ thrown at first, before I realised you were feeling guilty about not keeping in contact." 

Alex pulled him onto the grass at the edge of the sidewalk to stand. "I knew I didn't need to ask you to be honest," he smiled. 

Michael couldn't help but laugh. "Well, yeah, I come that way naturally." He paused, considering how to say what he wanted to, then plunged ahead with more honesty, "You don't have to be 'on' all the time, either. Like, it's okay if you aren't actively trying to be a bastard." 

It had the desired effect, Alex laughing and shaking his head. "It's about your mouth, Michael." 

"Well, it _could_ be..." he drew out the phrase, infusing as much swagger and blatant invitation into his voice as he could. 

"Mm, yes, it could be," Alex agreed, attention clearly focused on the peek of Michael's tongue, his eyes glittering with renewed hunger. It hit Michael like a physical blow and he exhaled a nearly inaudible moan. 

Nearly. 

Alex lifted his gaze to meet Michael's, one side of his mouth curving up. "I have a confession to make." 

"Yeah? I don't have a white collar but I'm listening."

"Ha ha. Do not bring priest kink into this, please," he chuckled at Michael's wide eyes. "What I wanted to tell you was, on the streetcar earlier? I was colouring a tiny bit outside my own lines. It's only because it was already dark and the streetcar was so empty that I was okay with it. I wouldn't be, in most cases; I'm pretty private." 

Given the way Alex was looking at him, gaze travelling between eyes and lips, Michael knew exactly what he was saying, and he offered a cheeky grin. "Well hey, I do take rainchecks." 

"Good to know," Alex returned the grin and squeezed his hand. "Let's go catch our ride." 

The trip back was in a much more comfortable silence, blanketed by the noise of others, the streetcar no longer near empty but filled with partygoers on their way out. 

When they alighted, Michael groaned, "Why are 20-year-olds so damn loud all the time? It makes me wish my office were in the library so I could shush people without fear of reprisal." 

"I'm appreciating the irony of you wanting to shush people." 

Michael rolled his eyes. "Fuck off." 

That just made Alex laugh, the bass-heavy sound scraping down Michael's spine with a shiver of desire. He really needed to remember that Alex responded differently to those words than anyone else Michael had ever met. 

Both to avoid saying it, and to deliberately say it. Depending on the effect Michael was hoping to get. 

"I think I have decaf, if you still want a boozy coffee," he talked over his shoulder as he unlocked the street level door. 

"In a bit," Alex replied, following him in and going past so Michael could lock the door again from inside. 

Michael only got 90 degrees of his about-face in before his back hit the wall of the small landing and Alex was on him, that lethal mouth demanding a response. 

"Oh, fuck," he managed, sounding strained to his own ears. Already. "Alex..." 

"Get that belt of yours open. I don't want to damage it." 

"Okay. Okay." Michael fumbled with the buckle. He went for the button on his fly next and had his hands swatted away. 

"Hold onto the buckle, keep it safe." 

He did as he was told, breathing heavily as Alex got his jeans open and his cock out. The smooth edges of the metal against his palm gave Michael something external to focus on, grounding him as Alex bit at his bottom lip then lowered to the floor. 

"Wh-what are you doing?" Holy shit, his voice was shaky. 

Alex raised his eyebrows. "What I want." The 'obviously' went unspoken but Michael understood it all the same. 

He shuddered as Alex closed his lips around the head and sucked, so lightly it almost felt like it was just a hold, no suction at all. 

At first, anyway. The cumulative effect was something else altogether. 

There was no other point of contact, no change in the strength or speed of what Alex's lips were doing, but the utter steadiness of it built the sensation in stages, ramping it up slowly until Michael's thighs trembled with need and his head dropped back to thud against the wall while he panted, open-mouthed, unable to tolerate the sight of Alex looking up at him, challenge and command shining from him. 

"I can't --- I can't, hold out, much longer," he warned Alex. "I need you to, uh, to... oh fuck, to stop, if you don't want me to..." 

Michael's ability to use words disappeared in a blinding flash of ecstasy at the sudden hard suction enveloping the head of his cock, the hint of teeth against the ridge, and the goddamned _purring_ coming from Alex as he swallowed everything Michael had to give. 

He stood still, aftershocks of pleasure drifting through him, making his cock twitch in its secure hold. The buckle metal was warm in his hand; his jeans, heavy on his hips and thighs; his shirt and jacket far too warm now. 

At some point, he felt cool air hit his damp skin as Alex pulled off delicately, and Michael's eyes fluttered open to watch him use the end of the bannister to pull himself to his feet. 

"Keys?" Alex enquired, holding out a hand. 

"Uh," Michael tried to think. He'd had them in his hand, so..."I may have dropped them?" 

He watched as Alex's gaze roamed over him, paired with a pleased little smile, then Alex kissed him gently. "That hit you hard, huh?"

"Yeah," he agreed, and had to laugh. "I actually have no idea where my keys are now." 

"I'll find them." His quiet confidence went a long way in settling Michael and he pulled out his phone.

"Here, I'll put the flashlight on." The hallway did have an overhead light but it didn't do much to illuminate the bottom landing. The flashlight would work better. 

"There they are, yeah," Alex scooped up the keys and smiled at Michael. "Thanks for the light." 

"No problem," he replied on automatic, and Alex chuckled. 

"I'm going to go make coffee. You collect yourself and come upstairs when you're ready." He patted the hand still clutching the belt buckle, "Don't bother doing up your jeans. You're just going to strip off when you get up there anyway." 

Michael had no answer to that, only the instinctual response to the kiss Alex gave him before heading up. 

Into his apartment. With his keys. 

The thought crossed Michael's mind that he was rapidly losing control of the situation here, and he laughed as it clicked, comprehension spreading through his body along the trails left by lingering pleasure. 

He wasn't losing control. He was giving it. 

To Alex Manes. 

 

 

[end chapter four]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr if you'd like; same username. My ask box is open! 
> 
> And yes, same Tasyfa as in the OG Roswell fandom once upon a time.   
> ~Tas


	5. CMNM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is an acronym: Clothed Male Naked Male. 
> 
> Shows up more as CFNM in femdom but it's useful either way. :D  
> ~Tas

* * * * *

The great room smelled like coffee and Michael could hear the quiet splash of the coffeemaker once he'd closed and locked the door. Alex was nowhere to be seen but his jacket had been hung up, Michael discovered when he put his in the closet, and his shoes were on the mat with Michael's. He was probably in the bathroom.

Okay, then. Naked time. 

Michael unspooled his belt first and set it aside; no way would he let anything happen to it, especially right after Alex had put in the effort to keep it safe. Then his boots - made a little more difficult for how his undone jeans were loose enough to keep catching - and then his actual clothing. 

He folded it all and put the pile on one of the kitchen chairs. Still no Alex but the coffee wasn't ready yet either, so Michael shrugged and plopped down on the couch in his usual sprawl. 

It wasn't like there was any part of him Alex hadn't already seen. 

Michael picked up the remote for the stereo and clicked it on. Smooth, bluesy jazz issued from the speakers, wrapping the room in quiet sensuality. 

Depositing the remote back into its spot, he looked up to see Alex smiling as he came towards the couch. "Nice. I like it." 

"The music or the skin?" Michael smirked. One raised eyebrow was his answer and he laughed. "Right, the whole package." 

"Indeed," Alex agreed, his smile widening. 

"Did you have any trouble finding anything?" 

"Michael, you keep your coffee in a cannister marked 'Coffee' on the countertop. What do you think?" 

"That I've asked two stupid questions in a row," he grinned, getting to his feet. "Here's a better one: do you still want booze in your coffee, or plain black?" 

"That is a better question." Alex pulled him in for a kiss, keeping hold of his waist. "Plain black, please." But he didn't let go, continuing with more soft kisses, and Michael didn't try to get away.

Instead he pressed closer, refocusing his attention to the taste of Alex, the feel of the crisp cotton shirt between their chests, Alex's hands warm on his bare skin, stroking over the lines of his back. Michael lifted his hands to cradle Alex's jaw, wanting to touch him, too.

And found Alex moving to take both his hands, pulling back to lay a kiss in each of Michael's palms. "Why don't you get us that coffee, hm? I'm going to attempt your couch." 

"Okay. Plain black, coming up," he smiled. 

He poured two mugs, mind combing through the last few minutes. While Alex had deflected the touch smoothly, not seeming upset, Michael knew he had inadvertently trespassed. Alex seemed to like touching Michael's face, but the reverse was clearly not appreciated, for whatever reason. 

Didn't matter why. Michael knew not to do it again. 

Carrying the mugs over, he smiled at Alex and handed him one. "I see you managed to sit down." 

"Thank you. I did, yes. Although it's more the getting up that might be a problem," his laugh was rueful. 

Michael bit his lip but he couldn't not say it, even as he struggled to keep a straight face. "I can help get you up, no problem." 

Alex snorted. "Fair. I walked into that one." He eyed Michael. "How are you feeling about what happened downstairs?" 

"Like I had a clitoral orgasm." 

The confused look was about what Michael had expected. "Sorry, you'll have to explain that. I have zero personal experience." 

"Yeah, I figured. I, uh, I had a girlfriend who liked something similar in receiving oral, so I got good at it. But it never occurred to me to try it on a dick." 

Alex laughed. "Well, now you know it works. Why similar, what was different? Or is it anatomical?" 

"No, no, just, combined with active tongue, I guess is the best way to put it." He'd never tried to explain it verbally. 

"Mm, gotcha." He sipped the coffee, regarding Michael. "And the 'I figured'?"

"You haven't said so outright, but you use 'he' exclusively when talking about yourself in a sexual context, and you use 'they' in more general topics, so I figured you exclusively sleep with men." He shrugged. "Lesbian sister. I learned to pay attention to pronouns." 

"You are observant," Alex nodded, smiling. "And correct: I'm gay." 

"Cool." It didn't matter one iota to Michael. He might have hesitated if Alex had been closeted, that could get complicated, but Alex wouldn't have asked him out to dinner in the first place then, never mind walking around holding hands. 

"So aside from clitoral," Alex looked heavenward and chuckled, "how do you feel?" 

Michael echoed the laugh. "I watched you go up the stairs like you owned the place and for a minute it was, like, I don't know, worrying, almost?" He looked down at the mug in his hand, swirling the liquid. "Like, my first thought was that you'd just totally taken over, and obviously that had to be a bad thing. And then you went inside and I was standing there trying to breathe, with my dick out and my head spinning, and I realised I had it all backwards." 

Michael took a sip, grateful when Alex neither spoke nor forced eye contact; he seemed to know Michael needed some space to articulate his thoughts. 

"I mean, yeah, you did just take over, but, I said you could. I gave you permission. I _wanted_ to give you that." He shrugged. "It was easy then. I just did what you'd said, came upstairs when I was ready and took my clothes off." 

When he dared a glance at Alex, Michael found him nodding. He dropped his eyes again and Alex prompted gently, "And now?" 

"Calm, I guess?" He cocked his head, considering how to put it. "Ready. Not for anything in particular, but in general. I don't need to know what to be ready for, because that's your department. I can just be reactive, to whatever you want, and that makes me feel calm."

"Oh, Michael," Alex sighed, sounding pleased and incredulous at the same time. Not a combination his name usually inspired, and Michael lifted his gaze to meet Alex's, seeing his luminous smile. "Put the coffee down and come here, Michael." 

Easily done and once stood in front of Alex, he didn't have to ask what next as Alex patted the couch cushion on either side of him. "Come on, in my lap." 

Michael settled astride him, conscious of the rub of denim against his inner thighs, the coolness of the air on his ass. He smiled as Alex cupped his shoulders. 

"I seriously don't understand how you've made it to 28 years old without a dom snapping you up."

He huffed a laugh. "Good answer then?" 

"You could say that, yeah." Alex skimmed across the top of his shoulders and up his neck, one hand drifting to hold his nape while the other brushed an errant curl away, fingers continuing to wander over his face. Michael closed his eyes to enjoy the caress and leaned forward when Alex applied light pressure to his nape, lips parted for the kiss he knew was coming. 

The touch of Alex's mouth was featherlight and Michael responded in kind, opening to the delicate licks and slow rhythm. It was easy to get lost in it, to let his senses appreciate the influx of stimulation, and modulate his actions to follow Alex's as the kiss deepened. 

Michael slipped his hands around Alex's waist to rest at the small of his back, chest flush with Alex's as Alex encouraged him closer. The pace of lips and tongues might be slow yet but it was no longer gentle and Michael moaned, low and long. 

"Mm, more of that," Alex murmured in between kisses, thumb brushing over Michael's nipple. It was an easy ask; Michael wasn't naturally given to quietness under any circumstances. He breathed soft moans into Alex's mouth, revelling in the freedom of simply reacting to the touches, the commands, his sounds gradually growing louder as Alex continued to play with his nipples. 

"I could drown in you." A whisper Michael almost didn't hear. 

"Don’t do that. I like you breathing," Michael chuckled. 

"Oh, I'm breathing," he laughed, and then his hands left Michael's skin and he heard the snick of a zipper. 

"Yes, please," he didn't know yet what Alex had in mind but Michael was all for anything involving getting into Alex's pants. 

"Give me your hand." 

Michael did, and moaned as his palm made contact with the underside of Alex's cock, his fingers wrapping around to hold his own, too. He wasn't fully hard again yet but Alex made up for that, a solid weight as he began to move his hand. 

"Good, keep going like that. Don't come," Alex warned. "I'll stop you if I get too close." 

"Understood." One word was all Michael managed before Alex recaptured his mouth, his hands returning to Michael's chest, rolling the stiffened tips of his nipples between calloused fingertips. 

Michael whimpered, and his hips began to move, providing a friction counterpoint to his palm, earning soft, guttural noises from Alex that felt almost as good as the physical touch. 

He braced his free hand against the slope of Alex's shoulder, the shirt fabric feeling cool for only a moment before their body heat warmed the cotton, its crisp smoothness giving way to a soft crumple in Michael's fingers. 

It gave him enough stability to get a good, steady rhythm going, and that seemed to inspire Alex as nails dragged lightly down Michael's back. Alex pressed a hand against the crease of his ass, middle finger tap-tap-tapping against his hole, sensitising delicate skin. 

"I really want that evil laugh track," Michael muttered, smiling against Alex's mouth when he did laugh. 

"And I really want to have lube but sadly, I didn't get that far before you distracted me."

"Do you want me to ---"

"No," he shook his head, cutting off the question, and smiled. "I want you to stop now." 

Michael let his grip relax and brought his hand to rest on his thigh, hips stilling. 

Alex gave him such an intense look that Michael's breath caught despite the reduction in stimulation. He watched Alex wet his lips. "How would you feel about fucking me?" 

Hazel eyes widened. "I --- yes, please. If that's an option, I will happily tick that box, yes." It seemed strange for Alex to be asking, not telling, but Michael was comfortable with his answer. 

"And you understand that doesn't change any of the rules, right?" 

Okay, now that really was a weird question, but something about the way Alex said it indicated he'd maybe had a problem with that in the past. Which made no sense whatsoever to Michael and he frowned. 

"You know, the other reason I stopped reading about kink online was because what I could find easily was really fucking prescriptive. Like, doms do this, and subs do that, and the," he paused, but couldn't think of the word and flapped his hand, "the flippy people in middle have to choose a side and stay there. And, like, fuck that noise. 

"I got some of that kind of shit when I figured out I was bi. Pressure to pick a side. No. I don't play for the A team or the B team. I play on the (A + B) team. I'm a brackets guy."

Michael took a quick breath as he pointed to Alex then himself. "And what we're doing? Is a very simple if-then statement." He continued to gesture, concluding, "If Alex wants it, then Michael will do it. That's it, that's the whole story." 

Alex was watching him with a grin. "Are you done now?" 

He laughed a little. "Yeah. Yeah, it kind of hit a nerve, I guess, and --- mmpf," any further words were lost to Alex's fierce kiss. Evidently this latest bout of word vomiting hadn't pissed him off. 

Michael blinked dazedly when Alex let him up for air. "What was that for?" 

"Being you." 

"I don't think you know me well enough yet to be so sure that's a good thing." 

"Mm, I disagree," he smiled, tracing random swirls and lines over Michael's back. "I don't know all the details or the depths, of course, but I have a pretty good sense of who you are as a person. You're very open." 

"Too much so, sometimes." Michael knew it could irritate people. 

"Perhaps," Alex shrugged. "I'm nowhere near as open, as I'm sure you've noticed. But I'm finding it easy to relax with you, I think partly because you put it all out there, and that's rare for me. To be comfortable with someone so quickly." 

"Huh." He hadn't realised this was unusual for Alex, too; he'd assumed it was a kink thing. "You're not closed off, though. Just, guarded. It's sort of like our current clothing situation."

Alex laughed. "What, me mostly clothed and you totally naked?" 

"Exactly," Michael grinned. He moved his hands to Alex's top shirt button, holding his gaze as he slid the button through its buttonhole and spread the fabric. "You give me the most fascinating glimpses," he undid another button, "and I know," a third and fourth button, "you'll show me more when you're ready." 

Michael finished his task and pushed the shirt down over Alex's upper arms, still looking directly into beautiful dark eyes, and smirked, "Kind of a psychological striptease." 

"Mixing the literal and metaphorical, how very arts and humanities of you," Alex teased. He shrugged out of the shirt altogether then brought both hands around to land a good smack on each cheek of Michael's ass, making him jump. 

"Did I lose points for not talking in math or computer?" Michael laughed. 

"No, I just happen to like your ass." 

"And, what about yours?" he asked, trying to make it clear he was still interested after all the tangents. 

"Mm, yeah. I still want you to fuck me," Alex confirmed, and the way he looked at Michael made him shiver all over. 

"Well, you know. Any way you want it, that's the way you need it." 

He watched Alex's eyebrows draw together in a puzzled frown, hiding a grin at the changes in his expression as he placed the reference. 

"Did you," Alex stopped, stuttered a laugh. "Michael. Did you seriously just quote Journey lyrics at me?" 

"Of course," now he could let the grin blossom. "Classic rock is good sex tunes." 

Alex shook his head, mirroring Michael's grin. "Whatever. If you help get me on my feet, we'll see about getting me on my back next." 

"That's the kind of if-then statement I like." 

 

 

[end chapter five]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr if you'd like; same username. My ask box is open! 
> 
> And yes, same Tasyfa as in the OG Roswell fandom once upon a time.   
> ~Tas


	6. Made of Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual chapter notes! First, chapter title is from the song Faerie Lights by Emma's Imagination. 
> 
> Second, for those not on Tumblr or who otherwise missed it, I put up a meta post about this verse. Sort of a how did I build it, and a bit of a primer as to what bits of RNM show canon are and aren't included. Said post is here:   
> https://tasyfa.tumblr.com/post/185235212449/this-is-a-bit-of-an-unusual-post-in-that-people
> 
> I'm happy to discuss here in comments / DM, or on Tumblr via comments / ask / DM. Or answer any questions about the fic or the verse, if you have them! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy. :D  
> ~Tas

* * * * *

The only problem with stopping the forward momentum long enough for a venue change was that bodies remembered shit like consuming two bottles of wine with dinner.

Guests had dibs in Michael's house so they had a laugh about it and Alex went first. Now Michael was finishing up in the bathroom, drying his hands on the towel and eyeing himself in the mirror. 

He was glad he'd taken the gamble the evening would end with Alex coming back here with him, and had swapped classes with another TA so he'd have Friday morning free. Not that Michael would have minded getting to sleep in regardless, but he liked having the option of a leisurely morning if Alex stayed the night. 

And Michael wanted him to stay. Wanted as many of those addictive kisses as he could get. More laughter that was a heady blend of mirth and filth. 

More of the way Alex made him feel. 

Which did not explain why he was still standing in the bathroom. Michael sighed at himself and opened the door. 

He found Alex in his bedroom, his nude form silhouetted against the sliding glass door at the far end of the room from the bed. He'd turned the faerie lights on and the soft glow suited him, picking out the rounded swell of his ass, shoulders, arms, thighs... Calves, too, though one gleamed golden and the other had a metallic shine. 

"Wow," Michael spoke softly as he neared Alex, knowing better than to sneak up on a combat vet. He'd learned the hard way to treat ex-military like skittish horses. Coming up behind them unannounced was likely to get him kicked. 

Alex glanced back at the voice, smiling at him. "I didn't notice before, you have a patio." 

"I do. It's one of my favourite things about this apartment." He closed the distance between them, pressing a kiss to the point of Alex's shoulder. "We can eat breakfast out there if you want. It will require pants, though - there are neighbours." 

He chuckled, "I assume we'd have to fend for ourselves instead of getting home delivery this time." 

"Yep. Isobel did apologise for attempting to intrude, though." 

"Oh?" Alex took Michael's hands and used them to draw Michael's arms around him, still looking out at the patio. "Did she tell you why she was so gung-ho?" 

"She did. Maria told her that I," he sighed, rolling his eyes despite Alex not being able to see him currently. "Well, apparently when I first saw you, I looked like a lesbian who'd just seen a hot chick in lingerie." 

Alex laughed. "That has to be the strangest compliment I've ever gotten." 

"To be fair, you were messing around with the cables and bending over in those jeans. I think a holy shit expression was perfectly reasonable." 

Now Alex turned in his arms and offered one of those sly grins. "That is why I have those jeans." 

"Uh-huh, yet another way to tease people," Michael chuckled. "I should have known." 

"Probably," Alex agreed, and kissed him. 

Michael melted into him, tightening his arms around Alex's waist. He felt a hand slip into his hair, the other onto the nape of his neck, and Alex held Michael exactly where he wanted him, deepening the kiss with a hungry sound that went directly to Michael's cock. 

Then he was shuffling backwards, Alex steering them to the bed without breaking the kiss. Michael stopped walking when his legs hit the end of the mattress but changed nothing else, simply responding to the siren call of Alex's tongue in his mouth, his body pressed close. 

By the time Alex let him go, they were both breathing heavily. "You get supplies while I deal with my leg." 

"Okay," he nodded and stepped away, digging out lube and a condom while Alex sat on the bed to remove the prosthesis and its sock. He wasn't hesitant about it. Michael wouldn't say he'd been nervous the last time, but he also hadn't taken his leg off until they were going to sleep. He hoped Alex choosing to do it now meant he felt more comfortable. 

Michael stretched out on the bed, supplies in easy reach, and waited for the next instruction.

Alex shifted around until he faced Michael. "So. Man with an engineering degree. Suggestions on where to put everyone's arms and legs so I can kiss you while you finger me? And don't say lying flat." 

"Shit, you want me to calculate vectors when you've just put that in my head?" Michael grinned, feeling rather triumphant when Alex laughed. He did have ideas, though. "Could you lie on your right side, please?" 

"All right." He stretched out in a mirror of Michael's position, and then Michael moved. 

"If you... Actually, do you mind if I place your left leg?" he asked. It would be a lot simpler to just do it. 

"Go for it." 

He gently manipulated Alex's good leg, bending the knee and propping the sole of the foot against the side of the other knee. Then Michael manoeuvred himself into position on his left side, sliding his top leg in between Alex's to support his bent knee. 

It left Michael plenty of room to use his hand, and his head was nearly level with Alex's, the slight angle no barrier to making out. 

Alex raised his eyebrows. "And comfy, too. I'm impressed." 

Michael smirked but didn't say anything, coating his fingers with lube instead. Only when he was ready did he ask, "Do you want this done a particular way, or...?" 

"Yes," giving him a look that was part challenge, part heat. "Start with two and don't be nice about it." 

The air rushed out of Michael's lungs. That was unexpected, to say the least. He had to clear his throat before he could reply, "Okay, just let me know if it gets too rough." 

"Of course," Alex smirked, and Michael had the feeling Alex thought he'd be more likely to have to urge Michael on than tell him to back off. 

That, Michael took as a dare. 

"Here goes nothing," he muttered, watching Alex's smirk deepen and then dissolve into an open-mouthed moan as Michael shoved two fingers inside him, rough and insistent, exactly as he'd been told. 

"Fuck, yes," Alex ground out and dragged Michael forward by his hair to take his mouth in a fierce kiss. 

Michael whimpered, unbelievably turned on by the way Alex was reacting. He responded in kind, pushing hard as he worked Alex open, adding another finger earlier than he would usually because he knew how it would burn. 

He couldn't actually tell who was making more noise by the time Alex wrenched his mouth away and ordered, "Get the condom on." 

Michael scrambled to obey, rolling it over his erection and slicking up. He licked his lips, noting absently how puffy they felt, knowing he probably looked as debauched as Alex did. His voice cracked as he asked, "Position?" 

Alex rolled onto his back, legs wide. "Put my knees over your shoulders." 

"Oh, fuck," Michael groaned, approval and desire mixing in his tone. He shifted to kneel between Alex's thighs, draping Alex's legs over his body as directed. There was enough left of his calf for Alex to easily bend his knees and get some traction on Michael's back. 

Michael dragged a sloppy kiss along the inside of one leg, breathing hard. He checked, "Same style? You want me to fuck you into next week?" 

"Yes," Alex all but growled. Michael couldn't get past how fucking _hot_ he looked right now, flushed and kiss-swollen, eyes lit with dark fire. Seeing him like this was incendiary all on its own. 

"Stop daydreaming, treasure, and get on with it." And the steel still evident in his rasp only added to the effect for Michael. 

But he had his instructions and he lined up his cock, using his hand as a guide into Alex, bottoming out on the first solid thrust. That earned him the sexiest moan he'd ever heard and Michael braced on his hands, watching Alex as he got to work, hips snapping relentlessly. 

"Come here and kiss me." 

"I, I'm not sure that ---" Michael stopped at the imperious eyebrows. Jesus. Okay. "Hope you're flexible," he muttered before surging forward to reposition his hands on either side of Alex's shoulders, folding Alex damn near in half in the process. 

It didn't seem to bother him at all as he went for Michael's mouth. It took Michael a few stutters to get his rhythm going again but he managed, mingling smooth, forceful thrusts and messy, biting kisses. 

It was a lot. The amount of purely physical stimulation; the sounds fucked out of Alex with every thrust, auditory stimulation and also praise; the route they'd taken to get here, with cool, clear commands that Michael understood how to execute, and knew how to do well. 

He slipped under, the world going soft focus and yet somehow more intense for the blurring, his senses saturated with Alex. 

Michael was only peripherally aware when Alex started to jerk himself off, his own focus on maintaining the steady pace. 

Then he felt Alex shudder under him, his body tightening around Michael's cock, his ragged whisper an invitation for Michael to come with him. 

And Michael did, shaking with the effort to hold himself up and keep going while pleasure starbursted through every inch of him. 

When the shivering subsided for both of them, Michael heard a soft voice telling him to stop. He coasted to stillness and hung his head, dragging in lungfuls of air. 

Breathing was all Michael was good for, for a few minutes. 

"Hey there, come back to me, hm?" Fingers combed gently through his hair and Michael moved with the petting, his eyes closed. "You like that, don't you?" 

Michael hummed agreement and Alex chuckled. "Go dispose of the condom and come back here. Now I do want to lie flat." 

Of course, because Michael still had him bent like a pretzel. He nodded, easing backwards on his knees after pulling out, supporting Alex's body with his own until Alex had both legs on the bed. 

Then he carried out the rest of the order, and pulled the blanket over both of them when he nestled against Alex's side. 

"Here. Like this." Michael shifted position in response to Alex tugging him this way and that, and then relaxed, boneless, as Alex resumed petting him. 

"I must say, I didn't expect _you_ fucking _me_ to make the shortlist of things that make you go quiet," Alex murmured, a laugh in his voice. 

It seemed important to try to explain and Michael mumbled, "You're amazing." 

"Uh-huh," sounding no less amused. He felt Alex trace over his face and parted his lips, pressing a kiss to the pad of Alex's thumb when it was presented to him. 

"We'll talk in the morning, on your patio, in pants." 

Michael grunted, nuzzling Alex's shoulder, earning him another soft laugh. "You go ahead and stay quiet, Michael. I'm just going to hold you, enjoy you, and enjoy how sore I'm starting to feel." 

As far as Michael was concerned, that sounded perfect. 

 

 

[end chapter six]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr if you'd like; same username. My ask box is open! 
> 
> And yes, same Tasyfa as in the OG Roswell fandom once upon a time (and pretty near everywhere else, too).   
> ~Tas


	7. Order and Chaos

* * * * *

The first thing Michael became aware of was a cool draft between his shoulder blades. It was chased away by warm lips trailing kisses from point to point, and he smiled into the pillow. "Good morning."

A soft puff of laughter caressed his skin. "You're awake." 

Michael chuckled, "Should I not be? D'ya want me to go back to sleep while you continue?" 

He shivered as Alex licked along his spine. "No. I was just going to kiss you until you did wake up." 

"I slept like the dead, thanks to you, so," Michael teased. "How's your ass?" 

"Beautifully sore, thanks to you," he returned, his smile audible. "The better question is: how's yours?" 

Michael felt Alex's hands smooth over his ass, pushing the cheeks apart, and he immediately knew what Alex was after. Desire sparked and he quipped, "Open for business?" 

"Mm," the approving sound was breathed against his back and Michael shivered. "Do you need prep?" 

He answered honestly, "Not if you take it slow. But if you're planning on going at it like we did last night, then yeah, I'll need prep." 

Alex chuckled, "Oh, I'm far too lazy for that this morning." He punctuated the comment with the rip of a condom wrapper and Michael realised Alex had only been waiting for him to wake up enough to ask. 

Wordlessly Michael spread his thighs, making room for Alex. The pleased hum that earned him was a sound he could get addicted to. 

Then Alex's body settled over his, weight pressing Michael down, holding him in place as Alex pushed inside him with a slow, smooth thrust. 

"Fuck," Michael groaned. 

"We're getting to that," bright with sarcasm and Michael laughed. 

"You'll have to forgive me if my vocabulary isn't up to its usual standard when a gorgeous man wakes me up for another round." 

"I suppose," equally amused, and then laughter became the furthest thing from Michael's mind as Alex began to move. 

Long, slow, steady, inexorable... Michael shoved the pillow away so he could brace on his forearms and breathe through the way Alex fucked him, rocking with each deep thrust, helpless to do much more than take it. Knowing that had him unravelling fast. 

And Alex was dropping kisses across his back again, murmuring praise in between, the words blurring into so much pleasant noise to Michael's ears. 

He did catch the instruction when Alex took hold of his cock. "Come when you need to. Don't fight it; don't force it. Just let it happen." 

Michael made some sort of agreeable noise and Alex laughed. "Quiet treasure. I've got you." 

There were no more words. Merely the building pleasure haze, fusing the rhythm of the hand on him, the cock in him, and the soft sounds Alex made against his skin. 

He didn't realise he was about to come until he was there, gasping through what felt like the longest orgasm of his life. 

Alex didn't stop. His hand coaxed Michael into spilling everything he had, withdrawing only when Michael flinched away. 

Then both of Alex's hands were on his back, flattened against his shoulders, pinning Michael in place as his thrusts gained force. 

Before this point, it had been about shared pleasure. Now, it was Alex taking what he wanted, how he wanted it, and Michael choked out a needy moan at the way it felt. 

Alex fucked him through the oversensitive phase, where it was just this side of painful. Alex fucked him through the lethargy that followed that phase. Alex fucked him all the way around to the renewed stirring of desire before he came, panting against Michael's shoulder. 

Michael felt pretty damned pleased with himself for a guy who'd just lain there and taken it. 

He mumbled something when Alex pulled out and moved away. Whatever it was earned him a stroke over his hair and Michael smiled. 

"Sleep it off, Michael. Come find me when you wake up again." 

No telling how much later it was when Michael next opened his eyes, but his pillow had been placed back under his head, and there was a note on the other pillow. 

_Made coffee. Sitting on patio. Wearing pants._

Michael's grin lasted until he went to sit up and had to peel himself off the sheet. Sleeping in a puddle of come was a down side to passing out after wake-up sex. 

Still. He was not complaining. 

A quick shower solved the sticky mess on his person and then Michael took coffee and a banana out into the sunshine. 

"Feeling well rested, I trust?" Alex smirked at him, one eyebrow raised. 

"Very." He dropped into a chair and grinned, "I'd ask if I imagined earlier, but my fantasies do not include adhering myself to the bed." 

Alex laughed, shrugging. "Everything comes with a price." 

"Did you eat?" Michael asked as he peeled the banana. 

"Mm, I had toast earlier. I've just been working on some lyrics," he held up his phone, headphone cord dangling. 

"Oh shit, I should have told you you could use my guitar. It's in the guest room. I didn't even think of it, sorry."

"You play?" Both eyebrows were up now. 

"Yeah, but at a, let's have a few beers around the campfire, kind of level. Nothing like what you do." 

"Means you won't be totally in the dark if I start geeking out over chord progressions or whatever. It's nice when someone knows enough to follow along, you know?" 

"Fair enough. That's why I like hanging out with my brother's wife: she's a biologist. Enough overlap that we can chat happily about stuff that bores the pants off everyone else." 

"Mm, exactly." Alex watched him finish the banana before speaking again. "Something I noticed, Michael: you wait for permission to come. You did it before you hit Google, so it isn't because you read it somewhere." 

"Well, I didn't think of it as permission before I hit Google, but, yeah," his smile wide and easy. "You gotta go back to my high school girlfriend for that one. We were seventeen, neither of us knew what the hell we were doing. She was... on the volatile side, let's say, so we got into a fight." He gestured as he continued, "She was unimpressed with how long intercourse wasn't. We ended up fucking, which was how most of our fights went. I was still pissed off and basically held out, purely from spite." 

Alex was trying not to laugh. "Let me guess: the joke was on you." 

"Yep," Michael sighed dramatically, but his grin spoiled the effect. "Instead it went really, _really_ well. So I worked on that, she worked on relaxing enough to orgasm with a partner, and by the time we broke up, the sex was fantastic for both of us." 

"And you kept doing it with other partners."

"Well, why not, right? Women like it. Most of the guys I've been with haven't seemed to have an opinion, really." 

"Mm." The same non-committal noise Alex made all the time, but the gleam in his eyes gave away a lot. 

"Yes, Alex, I know _you_ have an opinion." 

"I do," he agreed, the grin breaking through. "But I'd like to know what you think that opinion is." 

"That when we're together, you decide when I'm allowed to come. Or if, I guess, though I admit I'm less fond of that option," Michael scrunched up his nose. 

"But would you abide by it? Were I to tell you no, you weren't allowed, would you respect that?" 

Michael swallowed, caught by the intensity of Alex's gaze. He wet his lips. "Yes. That's part of it, to me. Of giving you control." He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I might not like everything you tell me to do, but I'll do it, unless it's one of my no things." 

"Your limits," Alex smiled. 

Michael pointed at him. "Those. Yes. I knew there was a word." He could see what he thought of as the, 'Well, shit', expression on Alex and had to laugh. "What?" 

"No, it's just... You kind of fell into this without knowing it was kink, and, kept going. Developing yourself as a sub, totally unaware that's what you were doing." 

"I wouldn't say I was unaware. I just wasn't calling it that." Michael laughed as Alex rolled his eyes. "You read the manual, don't you?" 

Perfect eyebrows arched. "Sometimes. Why?" 

"You like identifying things, quantifying them. Having an explanation for them. It's part of what makes you good at this, at being a dominant." Michael shrugged, "Me, I'm a pantser. One hundred percent. And that's part of what makes me good at my job, my research, because I don't care about 'supposed to be' or 'it's too hard' or 'that isn't possible'. I try it all. It's like throwing spaghetti at the wall to see if it's cooked yet." 

"Please tell me you don't do that to your pasta." 

"Nah, not since I was a kid, anyway," he grinned. 

Alex laughed and picked up his mug. "To being a pantser." 

Michael clinked mugs with him and drained his. He nodded at Alex, "You want a refill?" 

"Please," he handed it over. 

Two full mugs and a new pot starting to brew later, Michael came back outside to find Alex holding his phone up at him. "Say cheese." 

Michael laughed and held still, smiling, until Alex gestured at him to sit. He did, pushing the second mug over to Alex. "Something to remember me by?" 

"Cam wanted a photo," he said absently, thumbs flying over his phone. 

"Who's Cam?" 

"Jenna Cameron, my best friend back home. We grew up together. She was the literal girl next door." 

"Is she hot?" 

Eyebrows again and Michael smirked, unrepentant, as Alex confirmed, "She is hot. So is her younger sister, who's also a friend. Athletic blondes, both of them." 

"I knew it. The only way you get beautiful girls next door is when you're completely not interested in beautiful girls." 

"You're terrible," Alex declared, but he was laughing so Michael counted it as a win. 

"I'm honest," he countered. 

"That, too." 

"Well, say hi from me." Michael wasn't sure he wanted to know why she'd wanted a photo, so he didn't ask. 

"I will." He continued to type for another minute, smile firmly in place, before he darkened the screen and put the phone face down on the table. "She says hi back, and she wants to pet your hair." 

Michael snorted. "Get in line." 

"I'd object on your behalf, but I happen to know you actually like it." 

"When it's someone I know, sure. Not real fond of the random passers-by who seem to think they're entitled to touch just because they want to."

"I can understand that," Alex nodded. "I had some similar problems when I was still using a crutch to help me walk, get used to the new leg." 

Michael's mouth twisted. "I'm familiar. Secondhand, but." 

"You would be," he nodded, looking at the table as he sipped his coffee. He seemed pensive now and Michael remained silent, giving him the space to think. 

"Michael, the way you approach, this," Alex leaned down to rap his knuckles on his prosthetic leg, the sound a soft metallic echo. "It's different to anyone else I've met. It's maybe another way you throw spaghetti at the wall, how you interact with people." 

"How so?" Michael frowned, genuinely confused. "I know people can be assholes about disability, but surely your friends and that are fine with it, even if they needed a little time to adjust?" 

"Yeah, my friends are good. And mine is a longtime military family, so it's not an issue there, either. Dating has been, more unpredictable, shall we say," his smile held more cynicism than Michael had seen from him previously. 

"I guess you're starting with a deficit there for people who didn't know you beforehand." It sucked, but he knew it was true. "I'm not about to claim I was always great either, but I did my privilege unpacking years ago, when I started to get into my field, so now it's just like, where's your leg is the same as where's your glasses. And nobody thinks twice about people needing glasses." 

"Good point," Alex conceded. "Whatever brought you to now, I'm glad for it." 

Michael considered leaving it there, but it felt like there was more to it and he'd never been any good at keeping his trap shut. "That's why you got nervous the other night, when I touched your leg and you realised I knew." 

Alex nodded. "It is." 

Which had Michael prompting, "And last night was...?" 

He sighed, flicking a glance at Michael that was both resigned and amused. "The first time I've had sex without wearing it." 

Michael's jaw dropped. "You are shitting me." 

"Nope," though he chuckled, some of the tension leaching out of him. 

"Okay. Well, I'd say you've reached the Made It point of fake it til you make it, man. I was just happy you felt comfortable enough to take it off; I had no idea it wasn't standard for you." 

Alex gave him a soft smile, dark eyes fixed on Michael now. "It's not. But I do feel comfortable with you. I feel more like myself than I have in a while, outside of when I'm lost in music." 

"I gave you your strangest compliment ever last night, and I think you've just given me the best one. Not sure if it makes us even, exactly, but thank you." 

That devilish twinkle began in Alex's gaze. "I'm sure I'll be able to offer you some very strange compliments once I know you a little better. Next week, maybe." 

Michael laughed. "I don't know if you're ambitious or overestimating how long it will take to discover my weird." 

"We could always start with your toy collection. Show me what you've got and tell me how you like to use it," Alex suggested, mild as you like beneath that wicked sparkle. 

"Could is not the right verb," because they both knew damn well it wasn't a suggestion. 

"Maybe not." Now Alex smiled, and Michael knew he was back on solid ground. "You were right, though: I like identifying and quantifying things. I want to know what you have, so I can think about what I might want to play with in future." 

"In that case, I'll get us some fresh coffee." 

 

 

[end chapter seven]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr if you'd like; same username. My ask box is open! 
> 
> And yes, same Tasyfa as in the OG Roswell fandom once upon a time (and pretty near everywhere else, too).   
> ~Tas


	8. The Whatever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all didn't *really* think we were going to go into full details about the drawer o' fun already, did you? ;D. (And if you did, sorry not sorry.)   
> ~Tas

* * * * *

"Do you want coins or sticks?"

When no response was forthcoming, Michael put the knife down and went to the foot of the stairs, bellowing, "Maria! How do you want the carrots cut?" 

"Chunky!" she called from upstairs, accompanied by giggling in two distinct voices. 

Oh, for fuck's sake. He'd been in the house less than half an hour. They couldn't wait until after dinner? She'd said she was just going to see what was taking Isobel so long. 

Michael heaved a sigh and went back to the cutting board, reducing the pile of peeled carrots to neat orange cubes. Then he started on the other vegetables, not bothering to check how she wanted those. Maria could deal. 

Chopping was kind of meditative and Michael zoned out, bopping along to the radio as he worked. Still no women by the time he was done so he washed his hands and got out his phone to text Alex. 

_Dinner is actually brother labour in disguise. I'm cutting stuff up. They're upstairs doing giggly things I don't wanna know about._

_Payback for your sister seeing your dick?_

Even in plain text, Alex managed to be a sarcastic fucker. 

_She knows she's likely to get birthday suit if she shows up unannounced, so no. That doesn't merit more than a Look anymore._

_Make a habit of wandering around nude, do you?_

_Yep._

_I'll keep that in mind._

Michael grinned, then heard feet on the wooden stairs. 

_PG time, sisters ahoy._

_Not planning to tell them about your prowess on your knees?_

He scowled at the phone, then hastily locked the screen and pocketed it as Isobel and Maria spilled into the kitchen. 

Silence was as good as an admission and Michael knew Alex would tease him for it later. Which made him a mixture of irritated and turned on. 

"You couldn't have waited until I'd gone home?" 

"Did you think we were --- no, Michael," Isobel laughed. "I had a fashion problem." 

"Otherwise known as, help me wife, my lovely long hair is stuck in the dress zipper," Maria bumped Michael's hip with hers. She noticed the pots on the stove with chopped vegetables in water. "Oh, you didn't have to do all of them! Thanks, bro." 

"Well I didn't know you were dealing with Isobel being a fashion disaster so I didn't know how long you'd be." He subtly bounced on the balls of his feet, ready for when Isobel realised what he'd said. 

"Michael! I am not a fashion disaster!" she yelled, and Michael didn't hide his laughter as he bolted, Isobel in hot pursuit. 

She chased him into the backyard, brandishing a tea towel. He could run faster but Isobel's long legs and arms gave her an advantage and Michael yelped as she snapped the towel against the back of one thigh. 

"Serves you right," Isobel proclaimed, and went to check the barbecue. 

Michael was still laughing, although he was probably going to have a mark from the damn towel. That fucking hurt. He followed her and waited until she'd checked the roast and closed the lid again before wrapping her in a hug. "Hey, sis."

"You are a menace to society, Michael." Her tone was fond and she hugged back hard. 

"I know I am." It was a not uncommon exchange. "Didn't realise you were already barbecuing. My faith in eating some time this century has been restored." 

Isobel snorted. "Asshole. It'll only be another hour or so." 

"Only, she says," he clutched his chest. 

"You're 28, Michael, not a growing boy anymore." 

He followed her back inside. "Yeah, but you're over 30 now." 

Maria heard them and laughed. "Wow, you really are cruising for a bruising today, Michael." 

"If you say so," he returned, getting a beer out of the fridge. 

But the comment gave him pause in a way it never had before. It was one of Maria's idioms and Michael knew what it meant: that he was being a little shit, provoking in a way that was designed to elicit a reaction from the other person. To dare them to put him in his place, one could even say. 

He'd just taken a mouthful from the bottle when he realised it was the exact same impulse that had led to him telling Alex to fuck off in the middle of things. Michael choked on the beer, coughing and spluttering. 

"You okay?" Isobel patted his back. 

"Yeah, yeah. Went down the wrong way." 

Maria took his arm. "All right, well, everything is cooking now so I've got about 20 minutes before I have to do anything else, thanks to your knife work, Michael, so let's go sit. Iz, would you open the wine and pour me a glass, please?" 

"Of course." 

Isobel joined them in no time and gave Michael a wide, bright smile as she sat across from him. He sighed internally. Question period was about to begin. 

"So, how was your date?" 

"Good. We had a nice dinner out, talked a lot. Not just me, either," he stuck his tongue out at Isobel. 

She laughed. "He can hold his own in a conversation with you. That's promising." 

"Learn anything interesting? I know he's ex RCAF, and from the Halifax area; that's on his artist profile." 

"I didn't read his profile but I did learn that. His family's long-term military, Navy mostly but Alex gets seasick. He's got way older brothers who will never let him live it down." Michael smirked, "So he ought to be able to cope with you two."

"Does that mean you're bringing him here next Sunday?" Isobel pressed. 

"No, it does not," he shut down the idea firmly, in the tone he used when something was non-negotiable. "I've known the guy for like a week." 

"Lots of time for that later," Maria interjected, ever the peacemaker. 

"Exactly," Michael gestured his agreement. 

"So you're saying there'll be a later." 

"Isobel," Maria warned. 

"Strange as it may seem, Izzy, I'm still not clairvoyant," Michael rolled his eyes and she huffed. 

He sighed, relenting. "I will admit I hope there's a later. I really like him. And that is all I'm prepared to say right now." 

Because no way in hell was he going to go anywhere _near_ the topic of kink or the... whatever it was, he and Alex were doing. Negotiated arrangement? Yeah, the whatever. 

"Fair enough," Maria smiled. "You're welcome for introducing you to him. I expect flowers at some point." 

Michael laughed, "I introduced myself, thank you very much, but I will buy you flowers, Mare, for pointing him out to me." They didn't need to know how belated said introduction had been. 

"Oh by the sounds of it, you wouldn't have been able to miss him," Isobel teased gently. She was usually a little more careful with him after Michael had pushed back, finding her feet again once certain he wasn't genuinely hurt. 

"Yeah, I told him about the lingerie face. He thought it was funny." 

"Good," Maria proclaimed as she stood. "You guys carry on. I'm going to check the food." 

"You know I just want you to be happy," Isobel murmured when they were alone. 

"I know, Iz. But I need to find that in my own way, and in my own time. I'm not in any rush," he smiled at her, the sweet, soft smile he reserved for Isobel. "I mean, I'm still in school, and my research is really important to me. I'm not on the same kind of timeline as you are." 

She nodded, and flicked a mischievous glance at him. "Plus there's that two year gap you so rudely reminded me of." 

Michael chuckled, "Yes there is."

* * * * *

Only once Michael was tucked into a corner on the westbound streetcar, heading back from his sisters' house in the Beaches, did he dare open his phone. Even with the ceasefire with Isobel, he hadn't wanted to risk it, considering the last text he'd gotten.

In fact, rereading it now sparked the same reaction as earlier and Michael shifted in the seat, his skin feeling tight, heat prickling uncomfortably. 

_I survived Sunday dinner. You familiar with the saying, cruising for a bruising?_

He hesitated before pressing Send, not entirely sure he wanted to analyse his behaviour this way. But the whole point of the whatever with Alex was to explore this part of himself, understand and develop it, and that was never going to be confined to the bedroom. 

Michael sent the text and leaned back in the seat, slipping in his ear pods. He might as well relax; no telling when he'd get a reply. 

His phone vibrated when he was a couple of stops from home. 

_I'm familiar. Who said you were cruising?_

Well, that confirmed to Michael it actually was the same kind of thing, if Alex were assuming the comment had been directed at him. 

_Maria. Not a new thing she's said. Just new thoughts about it for me._

_Noticing, or re-evaluating?_

Good question. 

_Both, maybe? Didn't have the chance to do more than notice at the time but am thinking about it more now._

Michael darkened the screen but held onto his phone while he alighted and began the short walk home. Then he read the next message. 

_How are you feeling about it?_

_Not sure yet. Weird. Hang on, going inside._

Once upstairs and out of his boots and jacket, Michael flopped lengthwise on the couch with his phone to read Alex's reply. 

_Do you want time alone to think about it? Or do you want to talk about it?_

_Talking is pretty much always my preferred choice._

That had been the easiest question of the day. 

_You know, I thought as much as soon as I sent that. So the real question becomes: do you want me to call you, or come over?_

It hadn't occurred to Michael the latter option would even be a possibility. Its mere offering made him feel less weird. At the same time, he didn't want to inconvenience Alex. 

_Truth? Prefer in person, but it feels like a lot to ask._

_I wouldn't have offered if I weren't in a position to deliver on it. That is, if you don't mind me spending the night._

Michael laughed. Because it was ridiculous. 

_Why the hell would I mind NOW?_

_I'll be there within the hour, then. See you soon._

He did have a morning class he couldn't pass off to anyone else, but it wasn't first thing so shouldn't bother Alex any. 

Michael felt restless, now, consigned to waiting. Not exactly his forté. He did the morning's dishes and tidied the great room, trying to expend the excess energy. He put on a pot of decaf coffee; he'd drink it even if Alex wanted something else. 

Finally he got a fresh lab notebook from the stack he kept in the coat closet, and collapsed into the chair. If he were going to do this whatever the right way, Michael needed to take notes. 

After all, writing it down made it science. 

 

 

[end chapter eight]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr if you'd like; same username. My ask box is open! 
> 
> And yes, same Tasyfa as in the OG Roswell fandom once upon a time (and pretty near everywhere else, too).   
> ~Tas


	9. Data and Decisions

* * * * *

"I don't know why I didn't expect you to bring a bag."

Alex chuckled, "You mean since this is the first time I've had advance notice I'd be sleeping here?" 

"You have a point." Technically, there had been no guarantee Alex would have come over after their date the other night, but Michael considered himself to have been a pretty sure thing. Still, he supposed it wouldn't have been polite for Alex to assume so with enough assurance to pack for it. "And you're positive you don't mind?" 

"Michael. Relax," he smiled. "I've spent most of my life on a rigid schedule. But since moving here, I can do whatever the fuck I want, at my own discretion." Alex gestured in the direction of the messenger bag near the shoes. "I have my MacBook Pro and the relevant peripherals so I can work on music, or if I get a consulting gig; whatever." 

Michael snorted a laugh. "So what you're saying is, you're in total control of your time and you've never been happier?" 

"See? You are getting to know me." 

"Ha," he shook his head at Alex's smirk. 

"What's the notebook for?" 

"Oh," Michael glanced at the lab notebook. He'd stuck the pen in sideways to mark his page when he'd answered the door. "Recording data." 

One eyebrow lifted. "Data on...?" 

"Me, I guess. Well, me and kink." 

"Oh? Do tell. What are you writing down?" Alex looked genuinely interested. 

"Not much, yet. I only started after talking to you earlier. Texting," he corrected with an eye roll. "Kind of picking apart what 'cruising' and 'bruising' mean in terms of my own behaviour." 

"First one's easy: it boils down to acting in a way that's designed to provoke a reaction," Alex nodded. 

"Right," Michael agreed. "And it's simple enough to make the link that what kind of action that is, is governed by what kind of reaction is the desired result." 

The corners of Alex's lips twitched. "Causality." 

"Yeah. Why is that funny?" 

"You're overthinking it, Michael. I'd be willing to bet money you said something to your sister specifically to rile her up, and you had some kind of emotional connection moment after the dust settled." His eyes gleamed with humour. 

"I might as well pay up. How the fuck did you know that?" 

Alex laughed. "It's classic brat behaviour. You're on the 'brat lite' end of things, meaning the provocation/reaction loop is less extreme, but the pattern is consistent." 

Narrowing his eyes, Michael enquired, "How come you're so familiar with it? And don't say self-awareness because it's not how you act, not by a long shot." 

"No, it isn't," Alex agreed easily "But it is a pattern I look for in potential sexual partners, because the push-pull aspect is something I'm kinked for." 

"I see." That answered a lot of questions in one fell swoop, about what Alex was getting out of the whatever (besides the obvious) and why he'd agreed to come home with Michael in the first place. He had a type, and Michael fit it. 

Alex explained, "That's why I offered to talk with you about it tonight, because it sounded like you were maybe having some negative thoughts about your behaviour, and it isn't negative. There's no value judgement attached. It's just one of many ways of being. One I happen to find attractive." His broad smile felt sincere. 

"Yeah, I guess. I gotta say, I'm not fond of the term brat. Makes me think of my mom," Michael admitted with a rueful smile. "It definitely had negative connotations growing up." 

That had Alex laughing. "I guarantee you, there is nothing parental about the way I look at you." 

"Oh, I know," Michael grinned. "You look at me like prey. In a sexy way, but, prey." 

"Mm." He glanced down, seemingly thinking, then back up with the look Michael had just referenced, turned up to eleven. "Like this?" 

"Yeah," Michael got out, feeling his heart rate jump. "Jesus, can you turn it on and off at will? Because it's a, uh, effective tool." 

The smile didn't do anything to alleviate the impact. "No. I can choose to conceal it or let it show, but I can't manufacture it if I'm not feeling it." 

Which meant... Michael smirked, "Suddenly I feel inspirational." 

Alex laughed. "Well, come be inspirational over here where I can touch you." 

Michael moved to sit beside him on the couch, letting Alex wrap a hand over the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss. 

"How are you feeling about your behaviour patterns now?" Alex asked when he let go, his hand shifting to Michael's thigh. 

"Alright. It's clearer that it's nothing new, you know? I don't think Isobel would know what to do with herself if I stopped trying to piss her off," he chuckled. 

"Probably not." 

"And I've made it this far in my life, doing what I really want to do, with those patterns, so obviously they don't impede my professional life," Michael mused aloud. 

"Right. So, what about your personal life? What's the impact been like there?" The questions were deceptively quiet for being so probing. 

Michael considered his reply, tilting his head and staring into the distance for a while before speaking. "Family and friends, not much, really. You've seen how my sister is. Getting her to _stop_ telling me what to do has always been the hard part. Max is somewhere in between us, like, he'll obey Izzy but order me around, and parents are parents," he shrugged. "My friends are all over the map, kind of like more spaghetti throwing. Whoever can handle me sticks around." 

Alex nodded thoughtfully. "What about your love life? You mentioned your high school girlfriend had a temper." 

"Yeahhh," he exhaled forcefully. "All of my early romantic entanglements were with people who had anger issues and/or were crazy jealous types. From, like, 16 to 21 ish? I never got hit or anything like that, but they weren't healthy relationships." 

"It's not uncommon for subs who don't know they're subs to end up in those types of relationships, unfortunately. Trying to meet a need they don't recognise or don't understand."

"Similar for doms?" 

"Oh, yeah. I dodged that bullet by being gay in a small town," his smile was self-deprecating now. "I had to think about my sexuality pretty early, and discovering my power orientation was part of that process." 

"Power orientation, huh? I like that," Michael smiled. 

"It's useful, to be able to talk about it separately to sexual orientation, since they don't necessarily have anything to do with each other." 

"Yeah, I get that. Like, I'm attracted to the same personality types in men and women, but I know bi people who go for totally different things depending on gender. Then you throw in power options, and, whew," he blew out a breath. "Man, bisexual switches must be confused. Or really, really popular." 

"I don't think I know any personally," Alex chuckled. "But my guess would be, either they figure it out early like I did - and for similar reasons - or they come to it pretty late because they've been passing even to themselves as one thing or the other without realising they're both." 

"Oh, you mean like how I thought I was straight until my late teens?" Michael laughed. "I had girlfriends through most of high school so I didn't think about it." 

Alex tilted his head curiously. "What happened?" 

"I went to visit Max at university for a long weekend, near the end of my senior year. Got invited to a party by a guy, for reasons I discovered later that night, and came home with my world a little more rainbow," he widened his eyes meaningfully over the last part.

"And that was it? Just slid right into place?" Alex's eyebrows were at least as questioning as his tone. 

"Hell no," Michael shook his head with a laugh. "No, I had a good old freak out once home. Izzy got me through that. She'd been out for a few years by then so she knew how to help me wrap my head around it." 

"You two seem really close," he smiled. "So you got the bi thing settled and went off to UNM, yeah?" 

"Yep. Where I proceeded to sleep with anyone and everyone   
indiscriminately. Until I got into another relationship, anyway." Might as well admit it; better to know now if Alex was going to have a problem with it. 

"I did much the same thing," Alex chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Kind of drunk with the freedom and the available options." 

"Right? It would have been rude not to. We Southerners don't like being rude any more than you Canadians do," Michael grinned. 

Now Alex full-on laughed. "Michael, I don't think you can blame your sexcapades on having manners." 

"Sure I can! I say please and thank you. I'm a serial monogamist when I'm in a relationship and a complete slut only when I'm not. Well," he scrunched his nose. "More of a weekend slut these days. Life is a lot busier than when I was an undergrad." 

"Whereas my level of busy is the flip side of yours." If Michael hadn't looked at him to smile, he never would have noticed the minute hesitation before Alex continued, "And it seems it's time to discuss the other parts of what you're calling manners there." 

"What, monogamy vs slutdom?" It surprised him when Alex nodded, and yet it didn't, too. For as little as they truly knew each other, it felt... exclusive. But with it being less than a week since they'd met, Michael didn't feel he could ask for that from Alex. 

"You said before, your early relationships were with people who had either anger or jealousy problems, right?" 

Michael nodded, watching Alex smile in response. 

"I don't get jealous. But I do have a temper. I keep it well controlled, because I'm not going to ask anyone to cede control to me unless and until I can control myself," he spoke seriously and Michael received it that way. 

"Makes sense. Trust yourself first." 

"Exactly," a hint of relief coloured his voice. "However, that fact, combined with my personal kinks, means that when I choose to get involved with someone, I do not share." 

Considering his own thoughts five minutes ago, Michael understood why Alex might be nervous. He offered a lopsided smirk, "You asking me to go steady?" 

It had the desired effect as Alex rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Yes, Michael, I am. I like you. I like spending time with you, in and out of bed. I'd like to explore with you and see where that takes us, together. But," he shrugged. "I know my own limits, and I can't handle doing that unless you're mine and mine alone." 

"Hypothetically, to be clear," Michael began, "what if I said no?" 

"Then we'd talk some more, I'd sleep on the couch, and we'd be friends. I'd introduce you to some of the people I know in the Toronto scene and help you find a dominant to play with." He sounded calm and friendly, but Michael could see the tension returning to his shoulders. 

It was a good offer, and under other circumstances, Michael would probably have taken it. But crazy as it seemed, he'd connected with Alex that first night in a way unlike anything he'd experienced before. That connection was what Michael wanted to explore, at least as much as his burgeoning kinkiness. 

He didn't have a problem with needing to commit to get it. 

Michael smiled, open and sweet. "Then I'm yours." 

 

 

[end chapter nine]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr if you'd like; same username. My ask box is open! 
> 
> And yes, same Tasyfa as in the OG Roswell fandom once upon a time (and pretty near everywhere else, too).   
> ~Tas


	10. One Way or Another

* * * * *

Michael stretched, subtly testing the hold on his wrists, pinned against the couch cushion by Alex's hands and enforced by some of his body weight.

Not subtly enough as Alex chuckled, breaking the kiss. "Somewhere you want to go?" 

"No," he refuted quickly. Just the opposite, in fact: Michael would be content to stay right here all night, Alex's legs nestled between his, Alex's chest pressing down on his, Alex's mouth courting his with endless kisses. And yet. Michael frowned slightly. "No, I'm good, just..." he trailed off, not knowing how to articulate what he was feeling. 

"Too passive? Need to push a little?" Alex suggested with a smile. 

That hadn't occurred to Michael. "Maybe?" 

Alex shifted, raising his torso a little to redistribute his weight. Michael felt the increase in pressure against his wrists and hips; the give in the cushions beneath him. He licked his lips, staring up at Alex, noting the raised eyebrows and the challenge in dark eyes. 

"Go ahead," Alex invited. 

He squirmed a bit, getting a feel for how he was pinned now, gaze not moving from Alex's. Using legs and feet seemed like cheating, plus Michael's socks and track pants wouldn't provide him any protection against the prosthetic leg. He'd rather not stub the hell out of his poor toes. 

Michael pressed up with his wrists, checking for give. Nope, none. He could see the faintest smile on Alex's lips and Michael's eyes narrowed. 

His next attempt was in earnest, hands and elbows lifting to try to pull his wrists away. When that didn't work, Michael put his back into it, curling his shoulders forward as if in preparation for a sit-up while he tugged at the hold. 

Nada. And Alex was just _looking_ at him, unruffled, vague amusement and explicit heat suffusing his gaze. 

If that was how he was going to be... 

Michael began to struggle, no longer holding back. It infuriated him how little difference his level of effort made. Alex was an immovable fucking object. 

He kept trying, even though the only noticeable change was his breathing, from the struggling in and of itself as well as the way it meant rubbing up against Alex, both of them rock hard. Not to mention the steady increase in the intensity of Alex's gaze. 

Finally Michael figured, fuck it, and started to bend his knees. 

"I wouldn't," Alex warned, and Michael went still. "You might be able to buck me off that way, but there's a table right there and chances are good, one or both of us would be injured. And," his little smile exuded the same heat his gaze imparted, "there's a one hundred percent chance I won't be in the mood for this if you land me on the floor." His hips moved, deliberately sliding his cock against Michael's, and a moan escaped from Michael. 

"You have incredible upper body strength," he complained. 

Alex grinned. "I do PT exercises daily, have a full session once a week with my physio, and I'm in the gym a few times in between. I like my independence and I'm willing to work for it." 

Michael digested the information and huffed a laugh. "I'm never going anywhere, am I." It wasn't even a question. 

"Unlikely," Alex agreed. 

"You suck." 

"I have been known to suck. I believe you have firsthand experience."

"Ha ha," but he did, that was true. Unsteadily, Michael demanded, "You have to stop looking at me like that." 

"Like what? A snack?" 

"Yes," he could hear a petulant note in his own voice. Alex might take it more seriously if he didn't sound both like a toddler and completely aroused. 

"Why, hm? How does me looking at you like this make you feel?" 

"Open. Pinned open."

"You are pinned open, Michael. I'm not surprised you feel it." 

"Not my body," he shook his head. "My psyche, I guess? But not like a specimen."

"Okay, what is it like, then? How is it different from how it feels to have me physically hold you down?" 

Collecting his thoughts, Michael said slowly, "It's very much alive, the way you look at me. And, intensely personal." He paused, letting the rest of it run through his distracted brain. "It makes me _want_ to be that open to you."

"Does that scare you?" his tone was so gentle. 

Michael exhaled, long and low, thinking. "It doesn't, no. I trust you. It feels safe, to want to be open like that, because it's you. And me, you and me, in this together."

A furrow appeared between Alex's eyebrows. "So you feel open, but safe, and turned on, but you want me to stop giving you the look that makes you feel that way. Is that a reasonable summary of what you've said?" 

Listening, Michael had to roll his eyes. "Yeah. Although it makes no damn sense." 

"I'm glad you said it; I was wondering what I'd missed," Alex smiled. "Maybe it's as simple as it being a little too intense if you feel pinned physically and mentally at the same time, hm?"

"Could be. I don't, I don't know?" 

Alex dipped down to kiss him and Michael accepted it, eyes closing in relief. He felt Alex's weight resettle onto his chest and his hands released Michael's wrists, sliding one at a time down the inside of each arm until Alex could brace on his own arms, leaving Michael's free. 

He relaxed under Alex's kisses, sinking back into their loose sensuality. For once it brought clarity and Michael made a questioning noise that had Alex pulling back enough to see him and ask, "What have you thought of?" 

"Competing impulses. Your... snack look, let's call it, does make me want to open up to you." 

"But me holding you down feels different?" 

"Yeah," Michael confirmed. "I liked it, but I wanted to, to - resist? Push back, like you said. And it was fun, until I started plugging into the snack look, because that makes me wanna do anything except resist." 

He bit his lip, not sure how Alex would take what he'd said, or if there were something weird about Michael to want totally opposite things at the same damn time. 

"I'm sorry," were the first words out of Alex's mouth and Michael blinked in surprise. "I gave you mixed signals without meaning to. From talking about the snack look the other day, I thought," he paused, shaking his head with a laugh. "Snack look. I can't say that with a straight face. Anyway, I thought it just turned you on. I didn't realise it was more complex and I'm sorry for that." 

Flummoxed, Michael blurted, "You don't need to apologise. Like, no one did anything wrong." 

"No, it was an honest mistake on my part." Alex adjusted position and Michael realised almost immediately it was so Alex could run gentle fingers over his cheek. 

Michael angled towards the caress, his eyes half closed as he spoke, "We'll just have to remember that you can either give me a snack look so I'm halfway to headspace before the rest of you even gets involved, _or_ you can restrain me and ravish me or kick my ass or whatever else you feel like doing that makes me push back and resist." 

"And ne'er the twain shall meet," Alex agreed, smiling. "It's a useful distinction to be aware of." 

"Yeah, sure, _now_ ," Michael couldn't help but laugh. "After I ruined the mood." 

"Do you need me to let you up?" Alex asked. He didn't move but was clearly willing to do so. 

"No. Well, not for that, anyway; I'm good. But it is getting late and I do have a class to teach in the morning," he sighed. "I should probably think about sleep." 

"You may want to do more than think about it," Alex teased, swinging one leg over Michael's to put his foot on the floor then pushing off with his arms to rise from the couch in one fluid motion. 

"God, the way you move," Michael appreciated the view. 

"I did tell you about all my PT not five minutes ago," he chuckled. 

"I know, I know." Another sigh. "I guess I should do sleep and think sex, even if I'd prefer the reverse." Michael sat up, and sighed again as he stood. 

"Michael, are you pouting?" 

"Maybe?" he gave Alex a wide-eyed hopeful look. 

"What happened to your ruined mood?" Alex didn't hide his amusement. 

"Yeah, no, I meant ruined for that particular activity. For me. And maybe for anything for you," he had no idea if Alex had been put off. 

"What's the class?" 

Michael didn't know how that was relevant information but he gave it anyway. "First year chemistry. Which I probably could teach in my sleep, if I'm honest, but it's hard enough getting 18-year-olds to pay attention on a Monday morning." 

"I bet," Alex laughed. He eyed Michael in a way that had Michael wondering what deviousness was going on behind the gaze. "Tell you what: I'll make you a deal." 

"A deal about sex, tonight," Michael said dubiously. "I may live to regret it but, okay, I'll bite." 

Yeah, the answering smile on Alex made Michael wary, but it was hot, too. Much as the combination baffled his brain, his dick was a big fan. 

"Good. You have 10 minutes to get yourself ready for bed and meet me in your bedroom, naked," the words held a note of command Michael hadn't heard from Alex before and he scrambled without even thinking about it until he was already brushing his teeth. 

His first thought was, it was just as well he had, because he had a feeling Alex would enforce the 10 minutes, and while Michael's bedtime routine wasn't exactly complicated or time consuming, it felt like a small enough window that it made him feel he should rush. 

So he brushed his teeth for the full two minutes the electric toothbrush demanded, making sure he rinsed his mouth thoroughly. Used the toilet. Washed his hands, and his face (usually a morning task, in the shower). Stripped, folding his clothes neatly and placing them on top of the closed lid of the laundry hamper, in clear view. 

Then, and only then, did Michael saunter down the hallway to his room. 

Alex was sitting on the far edge of the bed, still fully clothed. It threw Michael and he quipped, "Am I gonna be a solo act?" 

"Not even close. Come here, lie on your back," Alex patted the mattress. 

Shrugging, Michael did as he was told, stretching out behind Alex. He had a better view of what Alex was doing from here, which was, lubing up a butt plug. "Guessing that's for me." 

"You are the one not wearing pants." 

Michael snorted and rolled his eyes. Sarcastic fucker. He bent his knees, anticipating the requirement. 

"Good, but I want them all the way up," Alex smiled, glancing at Michael's legs. 

"I'm not sure what you mean," he confessed, and Alex twisted to grab his hand, slotting it into the space under the back of his knees. 

"Like this, yeah? Both hands, hold your knees up and apart." 

That was clear and Michael followed the instructions, feeling very exposed indeed. He huffed a laugh. "Oh, you meant the, hi here's my junk, pose." 

Alex's shoulders shook as he laughed. "That's one way to look at it." 

"It's not like you could miss it." 

"Mm, agreed." Instead of twisting this time, Alex stood then turned fully around and carefully climbed onto the bed, the slicked plug in one hand, and settled into an upright kneel between Michael's widespread thighs. He walked two fingers up the underside of Michael's erection. "I can definitely see your junk." 

"Well, I aim to please," and he'd intended for it to sound as saucy as the previous comments but it landed somewhere more serious and Michael swallowed at the warm approval on Alex's face. 

"You do," he smiled, gaze dropping to follow his fingers across the tender skin of Michael's balls, the sensitive patch underneath, and down to trace around the circular opening to Michael's body. 

The delicate touch made it hard to breathe. That didn't improve when Alex removed his fingers and the tip of the plug began to press against his hole, Alex adding a rotation to help ease its path. The stretch felt good; little bit of burn but he wanted it, liked it when it _almost_ hurt. 

"You look good taking it," desire thick in Alex's voice as the plug slid into place, a solid presence holding Michael open. He had no conflicting urge to resist this, though. What Michael wanted from himself was the same thing Alex was praising him for: to take it. Take whatever Alex was willing to give him. 

He jumped when the buzzing started, even though he'd known this plug vibrated, and Alex's grin looked like it might break his face. 

"I'm glad you're enjoying this," oh good, he hadn't totally lost the ability to snark. 

"I am enjoying this. I'd ask if you were, but," he reached to swipe across the tip of Michael's cock, bringing dampened fingertips to his mouth afterwards and sucking them, his eyes fixed on Michael's. 

"Jesus Christ, Alex," he protested weakly. 

His answer was another devilish grin as Alex picked up the lube and squirted a good quantity in his palm. And then did it again. 

"Dude. I've already got a butt plug in there. Your hand isn't getting in there, too." 

One eyebrow arched. "Have you been fisted before?" 

"No, and I'm not entirely sure I'd want to be, so..." he eyed the shine on Alex's skin as he rubbed his palms together. 

"I wouldn't spring something like that on you unannounced, don't worry. We already discussed toys and I don't need to check how you feel about handjobs." 

Michael blinked in surprise. "All that for a handjob?" At the nod, he snorted. "Okay, you know what? I'm gonna stop asking questions. My role here is to vibrate and present the junk." He adjusted his grip on his legs as obviously as possible. 

Alex chuckled. "You do have a way of putting things, Michael." 

"So I'm told, so I'm told." He watched Alex wrap one glistening hand around the base of his cock, his breath hitching at the feel of it. 

"In the interest of you getting enough sleep to cope with baby undergrads, I'm going to introduce you to a technique I like to call, how fast can you come?" 

"Wha ---" was all Michael managed before that hand squeezed and stroked, dragging up the length of his cock and off, even as Alex's other hand clamped around the base and began the same smooth, tight glide. 

And repeated it. Left hand over right hand over left hand, always one starting at the base while the other pulled off, in brutally quick succession. 

Michael breathed through it, whining low in his throat, eyes shut tight to process the avalanche of sensation. What had seemed like excessive lube made sense now. As it was, it felt like the initial breach of the plug had: it didn't quite hurt, but the sheer strength of the pleasure sparking through his body overwhelmed. 

He couldn't have said how long it took him to come; somewhere in between a blink and forever. But it hit hard enough to make Michael dizzy as he jerked and trembled in Alex's grasp, the tremors throughout his body continuing past the end of the vibration in his ass. 

The snick of a zipper had him opening his eyes to find Alex switching to stroking his own erection, gazing at Michael with a dark fire born of need and possession. Michael felt a warm flush of accomplishment, realising this was Alex's response to Michael's reactions. 

He didn't speak, trying to catch his breath still, and neither did Alex. Only the occasional soft grunt floated free, at least until Alex climaxed with a sharp indrawn breath and a long exhaled moan. 

The hot splash of come mixed with his own on Michael's belly and he whimpered, a visceral sound expressing a bone-deep acknowledgement. He was being marked. Claimed. Owned. 

The reason for the 'now or never' nature of how they might move forward together was abundantly clear: this was not a depth Alex could reach casually. 

But, neither could Michael. He didn't do things by halves. 

His breathing calm enough now for speech, Michael groped for words. His muddled brain didn't want to cooperate and in the end, he fell back on the same answer he'd given Alex earlier, "Yours." 

A gratifyingly bright spark lit dark eyes and Alex smiled. "Damn right you're mine." 

 

 

[end chapter ten]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr if you'd like; same username. My ask box is open! 
> 
> And yes, same Tasyfa as in the OG Roswell fandom once upon a time (and pretty near everywhere else, too).  
> ~Tas


	11. White Coats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter one but you'll see why. 
> 
> This kind of occupational therapy does exist, but I'm handwaving it like mad all the same. :D  
> ~ Tas
> 
>  
> 
> P. S. I'm compiling a soundtrack for this fic. If you've got any suggestions, please, hit me up!

* * * * *

Michael roared, trying to keep it sounding angry when he was having a hard time not falling into the same giggling as the little group around him. He beat his chest as dramatically as he could manage, and then plucked the tiny child currently climbing his leg and tossed her at the wall.

She hit the padding and slid down into the pillows, little legs kicking as she laughed. The picture didn't make it any easier for Michael to hold back laughter, but as soon as Joanne guided the little girl off to the side, Michael roared again and picked up the next child. 

They took turns and once each kid had been tossed five times, Joanne firmly told them the session was over and they should thank Mr. Hulk for visiting. 

Michael knelt to receive hugs and kisses, one boy tugging at his hair. "You're Bruce," the boy told him. "Hulk doesn't have curly hair. Bruce does." 

"Shh," Michael whispered to him. "Hulk asked me to fill in for him while he's out fighting evil. Don't tell the others, okay?" 

Serious brown eyes regarded him, thinking it over, then the kid beamed. "Okay!" He landed a sticky wet kiss on Michael's cheek and ran to join the rest of the children.

Joanne smiled at him, "Mind waiting a few minutes while I take the munchkins back to their rooms?" 

"Yeah, no, of course." Michael dusted off his knees as he stood. "I'll be here." 

He tidied the occupational therapy room as he waited, familiar enough with where everything went and what needed to be wiped down with disinfectant. By the time Joanne returned, the room was ready for its next patients and Michael was perched on a chair. 

His gaze slid over her. "You look good, Jo. Motherhood agrees with you." 

"Michael," she rolled her eyes, fond exasperation on her face. 

"Sorry, sorry. Dr. Radcliffe." 

"Better," she allowed. "But to answer the unspoken questions, the baby is great - especially now he's sleeping through the night, mostly - and so is the husband, and yes, I'm thrilled to be back at work." 

They shared a laugh and Michael told her, "That's awesome. You seem happy. I'm glad." 

Her expression softened. "I hope you're not still blaming yourself for things not working out between us." 

"No," Michael shook his head. "No, it wasn't anybody's fault, which is why we can manage to work together."

"We always were good together in the lab. And the bedroom," Joanne admitted. "It was everywhere else that was the problem." 

"Yeah," he agreed softly. "I wasn't getting nostalgic, honest. It really is great to see you so happy. I guess I was wondering what worked, to get you there. Besides getting pregnant," Michael chuckled. "Neither I nor my boyfriend is equipped for that." 

"Ah, new relationship, huh? You must really like him if you're thinking about those sorts of things." 

He shrugged. "I've never met anyone quite like him." 

"I'm intrigued. What's he look like?" 

"About my height, dark eyes, dark hair that's kind of a cross between spiky and just rolled out of bed, and amazing cheekbones. He's gorgeous," his admiring tone would be embarrassing if Michael actually got embarrassed. 

"He sounds it," she grinned. "How's the sex?" 

Michael should have known she'd ask, but he was not going to discuss kink with his ex-girlfriend even if they had successfully transitioned into friends. He chose his words with care. "Eye-openingly fantastic." 

Joanne's eyebrows climbed to her hairline. "That is high praise, coming from you. What's your stud's name?" 

"Alex." 

She smiled, "Well, you tell Alex he needs to be good to you, all right?" 

"On behalf of Dr. Radcliffe or Jo?" Michael winked, and she laughed. 

"Still a handful, I see. From both of us." 

"I will," he smiled. "Same time in two weeks?" 

"As long as you're willing to keep helping, I'll keep getting you clearance for it. I mean the kids love you." 

"It's fun, and it reminds me why I spend long hours in a lab trying to make better devices, you know? It's good to step out from behind the science and see the human side of it." 

"That's why I went this way and you went for the research. Each of us is where we belong." 

It was a clear dismissal as well as a statement so Michael said goodbye and left, not taking the abruptness personally. That was just Joanne. 

He mulled over their conversation as he walked down the hospital corridor. A handful, she'd said, and it hadn't been the first time he'd heard that. Michael supposed he was. He knew his constant high energy exhausted some people and annoyed others.

Michael also knew it wasn't something he could change. Not only because prior attempts had crashed and burned, but he liked that about himself. He no longer wanted to change himself into who someone else thought he should be. He was actually pretty happy being Michael Evans. 

He just wasn't sure anyone else would be happy being _with_ Michael Evans, long-term. 

Doom and gloom thoughts he should probably chase away with coffee on the walk to the lab. No research assistant today meant no need to take Timbits, which was almost a shame since there was a Timmy's on the ground floor of the hospital. And a Starbucks. Did he want a double double or a cappuccino? 

Engrossed in the meaningless decision, Michael failed to notice the handsome man in the scrubs and lab coat until he nearly plowed into him. "Sorry, man, I was daydreaming." 

"No problem. Everything okay?" he asked, and Michael actually looked at him, unprepared for a face he knew. 

"Hey, Kyle, right? Dr. Valenti, sorry. I already got taken to task for being overly informal upstairs," he smiled. "We met recently, at the Keg Mansion; I was there with Alex Manes?" 

The concerned doctor expression melted into a smile. "Yeah, Michael, isn't it? Sorry, I didn't recognise you." 

"From the two minutes in my presence while you were trying to catch up with Alex _and_ meet up with someone else? Gee, let me be insulted here," he laughed. "You were easier to ID, since you said you were at Sick Kids." 

"Fair," he agreed, smiling. "Are you here visiting someone? Family?" 

"No, no, professional capacity. I work with prosthetic limbs and Dr. Radcliffe is a friend. She arranged for me to assist with some of the occupational therapy with the little ones. I, uh, I pretend to be the Hulk," he shrugged, glancing down at the all green outfit he had on. "Although today I was solemnly informed that really I'm Bruce Banner because curly hair." 

Kyle chuckled, his gaze roaming over Michael's hair and on down. It felt familiar. His own reaction wasn't the same as when Alex looked at him; this was simply a prickle of awareness, with the sense it could go deeper if they wanted it to. 

Michael discreetly eyeballed their vicinity. Finding they were alone, he opined quietly, "You're a switch." 

Raised eyebrows and a faint smile greeted the statement. "And what makes you think that?" 

"Well, Alex isn't, and I'm not, and that was not sub-to-sub," he dropped it out there. 

"That's direct," he stated, and Michael shrugged. Kyle added, "However, you happen to be correct." 

Michael nodded, unsure what to say now. He didn't want to come across like he was flirting or leading Kyle on. 

"So you and Alex are...?" 

"Exclusive," was the first thing that popped into his head. 

"Already?" his surprise was obvious. "Alex doesn't usually move fast. He's a deliberate kind of guy." 

"So he said." 

"Huh," and there was a great deal more curiosity in Kyle's gaze now. "Interesting." 

Maybe it wasn't his place, but Michael couldn't help commenting, "Present day Alex isn't the same man you knew in university. War changes people." 

"You're right. He'll be different now, and your relationship is really none of my business. I'm sorry," he offered. 

"It's fine," Michael smiled, "don't worry about it." 

Kyle nodded, his expression friendly without that hint of evaluation pulling at Michael. "Just, be careful, eh? Again, not my business, but." 

Michael narrowed his eyes. "Careful in what sense?" 

"Nothing safety-related; Alex is a great guy and a great dom," he hastily clarified. "It's the other side of it. He can be pretty intense, you know? And easier to land than to keep." 

Evaluating the combination of words, tone, and information he already knew, Michael enquired, "Are you still in love with him?" 

Kyle expelled a soft puff of air. "No. Truly, no. We're friends and neither of us wants more than that. But that's been the case for him longer than it has for me, know what I mean?" 

Michael's answering smile was rueful and maybe a little self-deprecating. "I appreciate the warning but it isn't necessary. Holding back is not my style. If he breaks my heart, then he breaks my heart. He'll have earned it." 

Surprise flashed across Kyle's face yet again. "You are..." he trailed off, clearly uncertain how to proceed. 

"An unusual person?" Michael completed it for him, grinning as he added, "So I'm told." 

"Well, I've done my part to inform you of the risks, and it's entirely your decision on what you do with the information," Kyle's tone was dry, sarcastic. Michael could see how he and Alex would get along. 

"Thank you, kind sir," Michael bobbed in a mocking curtsey and Kyle laughed. 

"Might as well label you catnip. I'll see you around, Michael. I need to get back to my patients." 

"Yeah, of course. See you." 

Michael watched him for a couple of minutes before he went to the elevator and straight downstairs to get a cappuccino. 

After all that, he needed a treat. 

 

 

[end chapter eleven]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr if you'd like; same username. My ask box is open! 
> 
> And yes, same Tasyfa as in the OG Roswell fandom once upon a time (and pretty near everywhere else, too).  
> ~Tas


	12. Midtown Saturday Night

* * * * *

"I like this cinema. Like, it's nice to get out of my area for itself, but it's also nice to not run into a single student of mine on a Saturday night," Michael admitted as they streamed out onto Yonge Street with the other moviegoers.

"I'd imagine the one near your place gets a lot of student traffic," Alex agreed. "What are you in the mood for? Thai, Italian, Mexican, Japanese, Turkish, Indian, Dim Sum?" 

Michael laughed. "Jesus, no wonder you eat out all the time. Fucking world tour in a few blocks." 

"Welcome to Midtown Toronto," Alex winked. 

"You trying to say that all the culture is north of Eglinton?" 

"I never said that," lofty tone, sparkling eyes, and Michael had to laugh. 

"I'll remember that next time you wanna come slumming it downtown," he teased. 

"Oh, there are certainly irresistible attractions south of here," now that sparkle turned sly. 

"Uh-huh," Michael didn't even bother trying to disguise he was both amused and flattered, his smile wide. "As for food, I mean, I like all of that, so why don't we walk a bit and see if there's anywhere good that isn't full to the rafters." 

"It's a plan." 

They settled on the pizzeria with a wood-fired oven, and were shown to a table tucked into a corner near an honest-to-God real tree draped in faerie lights.

Michael sat down first, obeying the discreet hand motion from Alex that directed him onto the upholstered bench seating. And then he shifted over a little more as Alex sat beside him, rather than in the chair opposite. 

"Problem?" Alex smiled at him; evidently Michael's surprise was all over his face. 

"No, definitely not. Unexpected is all." He wasn't going to object to having Alex close enough for their thighs to touch. 

"I prefer side-by-side when it's a reasonable option. It's more personal. It does make it clear we're together but we aren't the only queer couple in here, did you notice?" 

"I didn't, no." But he looked around now, gaze finding a few others, and returning to Alex. "As long as you're comfortable, I'm good." 

"I know. It's handy being the shyer one sometimes. I can decide how I feel about it and I can act on that, knowing it'll be fine with you either way." 

"Uh-huh," Michael agreed, smirking. "Plus, you know, making unilateral decisions and doing what _you_ want, kind of your thing." 

His smirk deepened when Alex raised his eyebrows. Michael had quickly developed a deep appreciation for the expressiveness of those eyebrows. He was learning to recognise the difference between Alex being amused and Alex being annoyed with his sass and it was helping him start to understand where the lines were. 

All Alex actually said was, "Mm." 

Michael chuckled and turned his attention to the menu. He didn't want to push his luck. "Were you thinking one to share?" 

"Yeah. How about we get the meat and cheese board to share, then decide if we still want pizza or dessert? Sound good?" 

He closed the menu with a snap. "I'm in." 

When the server returned, Alex ordered for both of them. It felt strange to Michael, having someone else do it. And pick up the cheque, although he had made peace with that because they were usually at Michael's when they stayed in, so it evened out. Or it would, as time went on. 

Also strange? Thinking in terms of time going on, in a relationship with someone he'd known for a month. But that was easy enough to rationalise, too. There was a surprising amount of logic involved in navigating this kind of relationship. Michael didn't know if that was how kink generally went or if it was Alex, but since Michael was getting both and it did work for him, it didn't really matter about the source. 

"You look like you're thinking, and yet nothing's coming out of your mouth," Alex observed dryly. 

Michael snorted. "Pardon me for the pause in the flow of words." 

Alex laughed and squeezed Michael's knee. "You're pardoned. Now, what're you thinking about?" 

"How we got here, I guess? Just, enjoying the journey." 

"Yeah, me too," he smiled. "You're still at your sister's tomorrow, right? I finally managed to pin down Kyle so we're meeting up for lunch." 

"I ran into him a couple of weeks ago. Totally forgot about it. It was at the hospital, when I was leaving to go back to the lab," Michael explained, knowing Alex was already familiar with the way Michael tended to forget everything when he got immersed in his research. 

"When you went to do that therapy thing with the little kids?" He grinned, adding, "You never did say if Isobel agreed to use a straightener on your hair for next time." 

"Oh, fuck, I haven't asked her yet. I'm not sure I want to do it at all," he confessed, "but at least it won't completely fuck it up forever if she does it." 

"Definitely do not try doing it yourself." 

"I won't, I promise." 

"Good. So you and Kyle, what, did you just say hi and go about your days?" 

Michael paused as the drinks arrived and claimed their attention. "More or less. He gave me a, like, wannabe snack look, I called him a switch, he asked about us, I told him it was exclusive, he said you could be intense, I asked if he was still in love with you, and he said no. Then we went about our days," he shrugged. 

Alex looked like he didn't know if he should be upset or laughing, and Michael frowned. "Are you okay? I didn't say anything about your leg, if you were wondering." 

"No, yeah, I'm fine, just... You really asked him that stuff? Put it right out there?" 

"Well, yeah," he made a face he thought of as saying, 'You have met me, right?'.

Now the corners of Alex's mouth tipped up and he shook his head. "You are unbelievable." 

"Nah. I'm an unusual person, but I tell the truth." 

"That you do," Alex agreed. He took a deep breath, seeming slightly unsure of himself. "So, wannabe snack look? What the hell is that?" 

"It's," how to explain it? "I guess it was a once-over, you know, like you do when you find someone potentially attractive, but in, like, a dom flavour. And obviously I knew he'd been involved with you, so that meant switch." 

"Okay," Alex elongated the word, clearly still puzzled by something. "How is that different from how I look at you? Just because you know it isn't potential?" 

"No, no, no," Michael hastily denied, and then he thought about it, tilting his head. "Actually, yes, kind of. I don't think it is a different look. I think it's a different reaction, in me. Although you turn the volume up, because you know it does things to me, and he was only browsing. But I don't think it would have mattered if he'd turned it up. It would have still felt like a wannabe, because he's not you." 

Slow nodding, so it made sense to Alex but he was still thinky. Michael waited for the next question, sipping at his beer, eyes on Alex. 

"Can you explain the difference in your reaction, or is it too difficult?" 

"I can sure try." Michael closed his eyes, thinking about the encounter with Kyle. "Okay, so when Kyle looked me over, I was aware he was checking me out in, like, the usual way, you know, considering whether he thought I was attractive or whatever. But there was another layer, sort of an evaluation, like he was considering more specifically if I'd be appealing on my knees. It's just, there was like a sense of that kind of interest, enough for me to notice it. Under other circumstances, I would probably have given him a similar look in return, you know, evaluating if I thought he'd be someone worth kneeling for." 

"And?" 

"And what?" Michael asked, confused. 

"Would he be? Worth kneeling for?" 

Oh. _Oh_. Suddenly Michael was remembering the way Alex had grabbed his hand in the restaurant that night. Staking a claim, he understood now. He sensed some history there that Alex would probably never talk about, but which seemed to have knocked his confidence when it came to competing with Kyle. Or what he seemed to think might be a competition, anyway. 

"Dunno," Michael shrugged. "Not interested regardless." 

"Okay," Alex nodded, seeming to accept that. "And you've said before when I look at you, it makes you want to give in, not resist." 

"Yeah, exactly. And that's at, like, half volume. Full volume, it's less wanting to give in and more like presenting my throat." 

That definitely pleased Alex, judging by the little smile and bright eyes. "Well. You are mine." 

Michael simply nodded, enjoying that smile. He liked how possessive Alex could be, and the ways he expressed it; Michael had never felt _safe_ in that position before, but it was how Alex made him feel. 

The server returned with the meat and cheese board, and the conversation drifted to mundane things as they ate: the movie they'd seen earlier, how work was going, the minutiae of daily life. 

Before Michael knew it, they'd eaten their way through everything but the last piece of cheese, where their hands now collided. He let go and grinned. "Let me have a bite and you have the rest?" 

Alex returned the smile and lifted the cheese to Michael's mouth, eyes never leaving his. The slight pressure had Michael's lips parting, his teeth closing on the cheddar, his tongue drawing it further into his mouth. He could feel Alex's fingers there still even as he chewed and swallowed, caught fast in the glow in Alex's gaze. For a long moment, the rest of the world faded away; the restaurant around them became distant, unimportant. 

Sound rushed back in when Alex withdrew his hand, bringing the bitten cube to his own mouth and popping it in. Michael watched his jaw work, his throat bob; he felt heat spread through him and it had to be obvious because the glint in those dark eyes, well. Michael had not seen such a self-satisfied, smug, completely catlike expression on a man's face before. 

"You're blushing." 

"What?" Michael touched his own cheek with the back of his hand, dumbfounded to find it very warm. "I-I don't..." he stopped, because clearly he did, even if he hadn't known about it. He widened his eyes and one side of his mouth lifted in a crooked smirk. "I guess I do." 

"Yeah, you do," smooth as silk and so delighted that Michael's smirk broadened into a full-blown grin. 

"May I suggest we get dessert to go?" Michael asked, itching to touch Alex now and not in a way that was appropriate in public. 

"I was about to say something similar," Alex agreed. He signalled the server and asked for the bill, paying it while Michael struggled into his winter coat, and a few minutes later they were back on the street and walking towards Alex's apartment building. 

When they approached the Metro grocery store by the corner, Alex stopped and nodded at Michael. "Stay here. I'll be just a few minutes." 

Michael shrugged in acquiescence and moved up beside the glass wall of the store, out of the path of other pedestrians, as Alex went inside. He didn't have a clue what Alex was getting but it didn't matter. He shoved his hands deeper into the coat pockets and watched his breath plume white in the frigid air as he waited. 

True to his word, Alex emerged shortly carrying a black nylon shopping bag with red racing stripes that were currently distorted by the bulging contents. Michael couldn't hold in the laugh. "Dude. Even your foldaway shopping bag is punk, seriously?" 

Alex grinned and shrugged. "What the hell, right? Why, what's yours?" 

"Plain blue. Although Isobel has one with hot pink flowers that I've had to carry before." 

"Aw, poor baby," he teased as they resumed walking. Michael rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut, making Alex laugh. 

The companionable silence lasted until they were through the front door to the apartment. Then, Alex looked him up and down. "I'm going to put these away. You, strip." 

Michael inclined his head in acknowledgement and began to unbutton and unzip all his layers. Coat and boots in the closet. Everything else, folded and stacked on the console table by the entrance to the living space where Alex had already deposited his keys in the waiting dish. 

He could hear Alex in the kitchen but didn't move to join him, wandering instead to the expanse of glass on the far side of the room, standing and looking out over the city lights. A view was the one thing his own apartment lacked. 

"I like the reminder I'm not in a small town anymore," Alex sighed by his ear as warm arms wrapped around Michael. 

"It's pretty," he agreed. "Bet it'll be even better once the Christmas lights start going up." 

"I think they have. Halloween is over and the Santa Claus parade is next weekend." 

"Yeah, I'm still not used to it all starting before Thanksgiving even after a few years here." 

"American Thanksgiving, you mean," he teased. 

Michael huffed a laugh and craned his neck to kiss Alex. "Yes. I did have turkey and trimmings last month, though. Maria obviously celebrates it in October and Isobel has thrown herself into that. She's a bit of a holiday freak in general. Any excuse for a party." 

"I can see how she built a wedding planning empire," Alex chuckled. 

"Oh, yeah," he had to laugh again at that. "She's still annoyed she didn't get to see your set earlier this week, you know. I'll probably have to listen to her bitch about it all day tomorrow." 

"Well, I still have CDs. I can sign one for her and send it with you." 

"Really?" Michael did a full 180, wrapping his arms around Alex's shoulders. "That would be fantastic. I did get one for her but my research assistant swiped it. Said she needed to listen to it somewhere that wasn't the lab and didn't have me singing along." 

He grinned at the bashful pleasure written all over Alex and leaned in to kiss him. Alex let him, a hand sliding into Michael's hair to keep him there as he deepened the kiss. 

This was what Michael had been craving since that moment in the pizzeria and he all but melted against Alex with a breathy moan, feeling his lips curve.

"I think we discovered a new kink of yours," Alex murmured, chuckling at Michael's inquisitive sound. "The handfeeding." 

"Maybe, yeah. I want to try it for real, but, private. Only with you," Michael admitted. 

"I figured, from the blushing," he still seemed smug about it and Michael laughed. "That's what I ducked into Metro for. I'll feed you breakfast." 

"Okay," he agreed, warmth unfurling to spread throughout his body. Alex had not only noticed but had immediately planned ahead, before Michael had even considered how to do so. "You take good care of me, Alex. Thank you." 

"We do for each other, hm? That's what this is, treasure, a partnership," acknowledging and expanding what Michael had said, making it about both of them in that way Alex had. 

"Well, I never said it was pure altruism," he teased, enjoying Alex's laugh. 

"Pure doesn't have much to do with any of my thoughts about you, Michael." 

"I know. Ain't it grand?" They both laughed and then Alex kissed him, tongue licking into his mouth to stroke his, hands sliding over Michael's bare skin, and he understood on a cellular level that the conversation was over. 

Alex walked backwards towards the bed, not breaking the kiss, and Michael simply followed, fluid and obedient tonight, wanting nothing more than whatever Alex wanted. It felt freeing, if not familiar, not yet. 

"Undress me," breathed into his mouth, and Michael's hands went to Alex's shirt buttons, smoothing his palms over the skin he revealed, filling his senses with Alex. 

And Alex let him, gave him clear permission to touch and kiss and take his time, until he sat nude on the edge of the bed and Michael knelt at his feet, looking up. "Leg too?" It wasn't as straightforward as unzipping jeans and Michael wanted to be certain. 

"Go ahead," the soft smile telling Michael he was trusted with this. 

He carefully disconnected and removed the prosthesis and the liner sock, setting them aside on the small chair Alex kept beside the bed for exactly that purpose, his house crutches held against either side of the upright back of the chair by easy release clips. 

Then he turned his attention back to Alex, running gentle fingers over his thighs, and when that was allowed, drifting lower to massage his leg stump, working at the muscles with just enough force to get the knots out, then treating his intact calf to the same. 

"You're getting really good," Alex praised and when Michael looked up, he was leaning back on his hands, eyes closed, posture loose and relaxed. Michael smiled, pressing kisses to the inside of each knee when he'd finished the massage, nuzzling.

He watched Alex's eyelashes flutter, revealing a warm, heavy-lidded gaze. "You've been at least halfway down since the restaurant. Feeling alright still?" 

Michael nodded, confirming it further with, "Yeah. I feel good. It's... I'm with you." As if that explained everything. 

Maybe it did, because Alex understood what he meant, or maybe just had enough experience to interpret what Michael needed. "Good. You can keep going, work your way up to it, but then I want your mouth." 

"Until you come?" he checked.

Alex smiled, straightening and reaching to caress Michael's cheek, press a thumb over his lips. "Yes." 

Michael kissed his thumb, keeping his eyes on Alex until he withdrew his hand, returning to the relaxed slouch. That was Michael's cue to get on with it and he scattered kisses over Alex's thighs and knees, licking and nuzzling as punctuation, gradually moving towards Alex's groin. 

The musk of arousal teased Michael's nose, faint whiffs becoming a steady scent as he kissed along an invisible path, until at last he could let himself bury his face in Alex's crotch and inhale. 

He could hear Alex chuckle and it made him smile, pressing the shape of it to Alex's skin before he opened his mouth to drag kisses across to soft, sensitive skin stretched taut. Michael licked every exposed inch, coating Alex in his saliva. Staking his own claim. 

Then those long, elegant fingers stroked Michael's face, brushing his hair away from his forehead and detouring down his cheek to slip between his lips. "Open up for me, Michael." 

Michael did, automatically, his jaw relaxing as Alex shifted forward on the bed and replaced his fingers with his cock, pushing inside with a soft groan that reverberated all the way down to Michael's toes. 

"Can you take it? If I fuck you like this?" 

In answer, Michael pushed down until his nose was buried in pubic hair and raised one hand with his thumb up, just to be absolutely clear. And tried not to laugh when Alex did because he didn't want to gag if his throat spasmed. 

"Okay, okay, I get it." One hand cradled Michael's cheek, then the other, Alex holding him in place until tears prickled and dripped from the corners of his shut eyes, a physiological response to the stretch and presence of Alex's cock. 

Until any urge to laugh had passed and Michael simply waited in readiness for Alex to take. 

Both hands slid into Michael's hair, fingers gripping and bunching up the curls, and he felt Alex brace his leg against the little chair, its back already against the wall, and then he moved. Hips rocking back to get some friction then rocking forward, thrusting deep, trusting Michael had told him the truth. 

It was a lot, nearly overwhelming him, and it was perfect, the combined rush of stimulation and service exactly what Michael needed to sink all the way down and just _be_.

Michael heard the guttural noises Alex made as his pleasure built, absently noting the changes in timbre, speed, correlating them to the wet slide of cock against his lips, tongue, soft palate to calculate and recalculate the point of no return, his own body preparing for the release of Alex's, and then he was there, willingly trapped between Alex's hands and hips, his throat forced open to accept the proof of Alex's pleasure. 

He stayed still for long minutes, locked in place by Alex, content to wait for whatever Alex wanted next. 

 

 

[end chapter twelve]


	13. Raspberry Redux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, folks, this is the final chapter for this fic. Not to worry - the series is continuing! It's just a natural break point in relationship progression terms. ;+)
> 
> I will be posting a soundtrack with lyric pulls and Spotify links, so that will be part three in the SCoF series, and then part four will be the third fic. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me! *mwah*  
> ~ Tas

Coffee gone cold, Michael ignored it - and everything else - as he scribbled in his notebook, equations and his personal shorthand filling up the pages until his attention was caught by the sleepy sound of his name. 

"Michael? Where'd you go?" 

"Over here," he popped up from the couch, putting his notes aside and coming back to the bed, smiling as Alex emerged from the covers. "You want coffee?" 

"Do you still need to ask me that of a morning?" 

Michael grinned at the testy rhetorical question. "I'll take that as a yes and I won't ask again." 

The carafe was still hot so he poured for them both and passed Alex his in silence, his smile not budging as Alex closed his eyes and drank. Michael thought it had to be some combination of the caffeine and the routine that kickstarted Alex, and he felt he could actually see the degrees of alertness increasing, like the battery charge indicator light on his phone turning green. 

Michael found it adorable. He also knew it would probably be worth his life to say so. 

But the cute factor came in because it was a level of unguardedness he'd only recently been allowed to see. Alex had pretty much faked his way through being awake and aware right off for their first few mornings together, but then he'd given up the pretense. They were exploring and playing with Michael's headspace, mostly in the evening after Michael's classes and lab time, therefore Alex usually insisted on staying the night.

And the truth was, Alex was not a morning person, and now Michael was expected to deal with it. So far, that involved not waking Alex when he got up, remaining (mostly) quiet until Alex began the conversation, and as of today, bringing the man coffee without asking first. 

He could do that. Even on days like today when Michael's own energy was off the charts, he could contain himself until Alex felt comfortable with all the kinetics. 

"Michael, you know where I keep my keys, right?" 

"Yeah, in the dish by the hallway." 

"There's a matching dish on top of the refrigerator. Please bring me the green security pass on a plastic scrunchie thing from there, and my keys." 

He shrugged and went to fetch the items in question, placing them in the upturned palm Alex held out. Alex attached the carabiner of his key chain to the coiled wire hanging from the pass card and handed the whole thing back to Michael. 

"Apartment keys are obvious. The pass will get you into the gym facilities on the second floor." 

Michael frowned, confused. "Do you need me to get something from the gym?" 

Alex chuckled, curling his hands back around his mug. "You could say that. It's eight-thirty in the fucking morning on a Sunday and you are vibrating like a tuning fork. Go work out. Be gone at least half an hour. You can shower when you come back up and borrow some clothes." 

Possibly Michael had overestimated his ability to contain himself. He took it in stride, because it might have been firm but it hadn't been mean, and took himself off downstairs as told. 

Somewhere around the third gym machine, it occurred to Michael that this had been a solution tailored to the two of them. Alex didn't want to be annoyed at him any more than Michael wanted him to be, and getting him to burn off some steam so Alex could relax and finish waking up in peace would keep the harmony. 

Because it wasn't anybody's fault that Alex wasn’t a morning person or that Michael was a live wire pretty much as soon as he woke up. It was just how they were. 

He was still thinking about it when he returned to the apartment, sweat-soaked and at least somewhat becalmed. 

"That's a nice little gym," Michael commented as he returned the keys and card to their places. 

"It is, yeah. An on-site facility was one of my prerequisites for a building when I moved here. The lack of a separate bedroom was the trade-off." 

"Oh, I don't know, I kinda like being able to see your bed as soon as I come into the apartment," he teased, moving to stand in front of where Alex was curled on the couch with his iPad and more coffee, seeming tranquil enough. 

"Only because you know you'll be spending some time there," Alex scoffed. "How's your throat?" 

Michael couldn't have prevented himself from smirking if he'd wanted to. "Well lubricated." 

It got him the eyeroll and laugh he wanted, and Alex shook his head. "Give me a kiss then go shower. I put clothes on the other hook beside a towel for you." 

"Thanks." He bent down to meet Alex for that kiss, coffee-scented and sweet. "I wonder if it's possible to caffeinate secondhand?" 

And straightened, startled, when an open palm connected with his ass. Michael raised his eyebrows at Alex's grin.

"An abundance of energy wasn't the only thing you woke up full of, Michael. Shower." 

"I'm going," he called over his shoulder as he left the room, laughing to himself as he stripped and stepped into the glass enclosure, scrubbing clean as soon as the water warmed up. Alex was definitely in a better mood if he was being playful. 

By the time Michael emerged, hair scrunched dry enough not to drip all over the T-shirt, Alex had moved to the tiny dining table, now arranged with a few plates and bowls, each holding bite-sized pieces of a different kind of food. He whistled low in surprise. "Wow. Kinda looks like the buffet at a fancy hotel." 

"Well, I figured if we were going to do this, might as well make it good, right?" Alex smiled. He nodded at the chair placed facing his. "Take a seat." 

Michael complied, finding himself a tiny bit nervous. He cleared his throat and rubbed his palms over his thighs. "Is handfeeding one of your kinks?" 

"Not really. I've tried it a few times but it's never quite clicked. It was pleasant enough, so I keep taking another stab at it." He flashed a smile. "Never had anyone blush about it before, though." 

"Yeah," and that was what had Michael worrying. "Um, so, what if it doesn't go anywhere, you know, like, what if last night was some weird fluke, never to be repeated?" 

Alex shrugged. "Then we have a continental type breakfast in a more standard way and we move on." He reached over and placed a hand on Michael's knee. "No pressure, treasure. If it turns out it doesn't hit either of our kinks, then it's just a bit of silly fun." 

"Okay," he nodded, feeling more comfortable. Still, "Could we maybe sit closer together?" 

Glancing down, Alex demurred, "It's too cold for you to kneel for long." 

"You could sit on my lap, straddle me?" Michael suggested hopefully. He didn't want his knees on the bare floor in November, either. 

He watched Alex's eyebrows go up, then lower and draw together as he considered it. The furrow was purely pensive, an outward sign of logistics being worked through inwardly. Michael enjoyed how obviously Alex thought, now that he'd learned to read a lot of his expressions. It was probably his inner science geek appreciating Alex's inner computer geek. 

"Yeah, that would work. Let me just ---" he reached for his crutches, presumably intending to go put his prosthetic on, and Michael interrupted. 

"You don't need it, Alex. May I?" he gestured to indicate he meant he had a way to move Alex into position. 

"Okay, yeah," he agreed, though Michael could tell he was a little wary. But he let go of the crutches and waited expectantly. 

Michael smiled and tugged Alex's chair forward until it met his. He perched on the front edge of his seat and lifted each of Alex's legs, depositing them over his own thighs. He could see a smile playing around the corners of Alex's mouth and Michael's smile widened in answer. 

Leaning forward, Michael grasped Alex by the hips and lifted him across, pulling him in tight against Michael's torso, his legs dangling to either side of Michael's chair as Michael slid back until he could sit comfortably upright against the chair back.

Alex kissed him softly. "Remind me not to underestimate your physics next time."

"I'll hold you to that," Michael grinned. He loosely linked his fingers together at the small of Alex's back. "There. No hands. I'm all yours." 

"Uh-huh," Alex agreed, running the tip of one finger over Michael's lips, encouraging them to part. "I think I'll start with a raspberry, and then a piece of croissant. It's the closest I can get to your favourite treat with a late night grocery run." 

"Probably a better idea anyway. The filled croissants get pretty messy if you try to cut them up," Michael smiled, obeying the prompt of Alex's finger and accepting the small fruit. He crushed the berry against the roof of his mouth with his tongue, letting the tart-sweet juice spill in a burst of sensory pleasure, keeping his gaze locked with Alex's. Once he swallowed, Michael parted his lips again, signalling his readiness and receiving a bite of buttery pastry to chase the fruit. 

It went back and forth between them, Alex popping a bite of whatever in his own mouth and chewing absently as he fed Michael. Michael figured, a little smugly, that Alex's fractured attention probably had something to do with the way Michael kept licking his fingers with every morsel brought to his lips. 

When the next particularly juicy raspberry hit Michael's tongue, he leaned forward slightly, tilting his chin up in invitation, begging with his eyes for a kiss. The smile Alex gave him made his stomach tremble, heat pulsing through his body. 

"You want to give me a taste?" Alex didn't wait for an answer to the murmur before he granted the request, lips meeting Michael's, tongue slipping inside. Michael licked the underside of Alex's tongue, pressing upwards to let him crush the raspberry. He chuckled low in his throat at the startled sound Alex made when the red fruit burst over his tongue. 

No telling who swallowed the ruined remnants as the kiss heated up, just Alex and Michael and a lingering sweetness. 

When Alex finally drew back, Michael's eyelashes fluttered, lids lifting only halfway, hazy and wanting. "Fuck." 

It was Alex's turn to chuckle, "Yeah." His fingers resumed stroking over Michael's face, gaze following their movement. It felt hushed, almost; reverent; and Michael leaned into the touch. "Not so hidden anymore, are you, treasure?" 

"Not from you," he offered, soft and sincere. The proud possessiveness that lit up Alex at the words had Michael's breath stuttering. "Fuck, Alex, I want you." 

"I can tell," punctuated with a slow roll of hips, rubbing against Michael with enough friction to make them both groan. 

"Could we? Like this? Please?"

"You asking if you can fuck me, Michael?" The rough whisper elicited a whine. 

"Please, yes, please, I love your weight on me like this," he confessed, "it's like I've been put here and you're keeping me where you want me." 

The initial surprise expressed by Alex's eyebrows smoothed and dissolved into a deep hunger and Michael's breath whooshed out in automatic response. He concealed nothing, held nothing back as Alex examined his face, his gaze, his parted lips, then nodded. "Put me back on my chair and go rubber up." 

Michael nodded and carefully slid Alex over, missing his body heat immediately. But he wouldn't have to for long and as soon as Alex was settled into place, Michael was on his feet and stripping off, knowing the default state was nude and Alex hadn't specified any different. 

The condom went on, then lube, and he brought the bottle with him, setting it separate from the food on the table. He smiled, seeing Alex had also disrobed. 

By the time he had Alex back in his lap, Michael felt lightheaded and needy, wanting to touch everywhere all at once, greedy for skin on skin and the harsh exhalations of moans. The fizzing in his blood settled when Alex kissed him, the gentle brush of his lips reminding Michael to breathe. 

They had time. 

"Help me lift up enough to get you in there," Alex instructed, gripping the chair back behind Michael and using that as leverage to raise his hips, balancing on his left leg. 

"You don't want," Michael interrupted himself at the sharp headshake and simply reached between them, manually angling his cock to press against puckered skin and in, just a little, enough to give Alex a guideline so he could sink down at his own pace. 

Which he did, in one smooth, slow glide that had Michael choking out a dizzy cry and Alex teasing, "Not ready for that?" 

"No. Bastard," he swore at the quiet laughter rumbling against his cheek as Alex kissed it. 

"You're fun when you're surprised," and now they both laughed, Michael ruefully and Alex in delight. 

Smiling, Michael nuzzled Alex's collarbone, dusting kisses along the cords and tendons leading to his shoulder. He gasped and sucked reflexively at a patch of skin there as Alex began a slow, dirty grind that threatened to make Michael's brain leak out his ears. 

Then he realised what he'd done and shot upright, panicked. 

"Sh, sh, sh," Alex soothed, pulling him down to that same spot. "Partnership, remember? You have standing permission for that. Marking is a two-way street for me." 

"Partners," Michael echoed and took full advantage, the spill of guilt washing away in Alex's noises as Michael fastened his mouth to the offered skin and sucked. 

Soon enough the maddeningly slow rhythm had Michael seeking the reassurance of kisses, losing himself in the feel of Alex's mouth, the delicate, deep strokes of his tongue. A hand slid into his hair, keeping him in place, Alex's to kiss and touch and fuck however Alex wanted. 

Pleasure built with each circle of the hips that owned him and Michael gave himself to it. Nothing beyond Alex registered with his senses; he was wholly wrapped up in what they were creating here together. 

It didn't stop even when Alex came, the sudden vicious grip of his body on Michael's cock making Michael's whimpers thread through Alex's moans, a sweet hot symphony which lasted until Alex murmured, "Come for me." 

It was all Michael needed to let go, and fall. 

 

 

[Et fini - to be continued in another installment to the series]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr if you'd like; same username. My ask box is open!
> 
> And yes, same Tasyfa as in the OG Roswell fandom once upon a time (and pretty near everywhere else, too).  
> ~Tas

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr if you'd like; same username. My ask box is open! 
> 
> And yes, same Tasyfa as in the OG Roswell fandom once upon a time.  
> ~Tas


End file.
